


The Blood of the Covenant

by Torytigress92



Series: The Triquetra Chronicles [1]
Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017)
Genre: Ada could bash Hecate and Dimity's heads together, Arthurian references, Awkward!Hecate can't control her feelings, BrOTP: Hackle, BrOTP: Hecate and Morgana, Canon-Appropriate Violence, Canonical Character Death, Chandra has an interesting nickname for HB, F/F, Gen, Get your coat Dimity...you've pulled, HB is really over-thinking this too much, HB’s trolling game is on point, Headcanon: Dimity studied PE at an Ordinary University, Healing, Hecate and Dimity are two alpha females who occasionally clash, Hecate and Dimity's spidey senses start tingling, Hecate discovers Star Wars...and Harry Potter..., Hecate has her hair down and Pippa has no chill, Hicsqueak, I'm sorry Julie, Mildred is a powerful little bean pole under it all, Morgana adopts Mildred, OFC: Doctor Chandra Nandi, Ordinary Witches because I call BS on that one, Post s2 finale, Prophecy, Protective Mama Witch Bears Hecate & Pippa, Recovery, TW: Nightmares, TW: Panic Attacks, Tabby knows what’s up, The others are clueless about the non-magical world, They just adore their little Worst Witch, tw: PTSD, tw: bereavement, tw: depression
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2019-03-24
Packaged: 2019-04-21 09:04:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 41,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14281551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Torytigress92/pseuds/Torytigress92
Summary: Post S2. When a horrific tragedy befalls Mildred Hubble, the teaching staff rally around the young orphan witch. But not all is as it appears, and shocking discoveries will be made that will change the young girl's life beyond recognition. Meanwhile, Mildred must heal from her family's loss and come to terms with her new world with a little help from an unexpected source. And in the process, she might just find that family can be found in the most unexpected places...





	1. The Beginning

_‘The blood of the covenant is thicker than the waters of the womb’_

The warm midsummer sunlight filtered like a gentle beam through the window of Miss Cackle’s office. It bathed the office like a balm, soothing and cosy, a welcome respite from the memory of the ice that had swathed the castle only a few months ago. It still made Ada Cackle shiver to think of it, the memory like a dark blight in her mind, but she pushed it resolutely aside as she thumbed through a newspaper. Unlike the many publications which were strewn across her desk however, this was not a magical one. Ada frowned as she read the article, one on the disappearance of young children across the country. It was appalling how disordered and dark the Ordinary World could be, and she gave thanks once again for the fact that she at least held the power to protect her girls from such a fate.

Across the room, her kettle sang and sprouted steam as it came to the boil, and like clockwork, Miss Hecate Hardbroom materialised in her office. Ada smiled as she put her paper aside and stood. “Ah, Hecate. Right on time as usual,” she said, gesturing with her hand for the kettle to levitate from its perch in the fireplace and across to her, where a side table stood ready with a tea tray and a plate of biscuits.

“When am I not?” Hecate replied coolly, one brow raised to her hairline. As she sat down, primly perched on the adjacent armchair, her mouth tightened to a taut line as she caught sight of Ada’s reading material. “Really, Ada. I don’t know what you find so diverting about reading such Ordinary rubbish.”

“Our worlds may be separate, and for good reason,” Ada replied, patiently. It was an argument they’d had many times, after all. “But I like to keep abreast of things. You never know what they might throw at us next.”

Hecate sniffed disbelievingly, but said nothing further as Ada passed her a cup of tea, strong, black and with a slice of lemon. Her own she stirred in cube after cube of sugar, much to her companion’s disapproval.

“I take it your preparations for the new term are progressing well?” Ada asked, with a small smile as she glanced at her friend. “Have you replenished your storeroom adequately?”

“More than adequately,” Hecate smiled, a thin-lipped quirk of her lips that could almost be mistaken for a grimace. “There are some ingredients I shall have to wait before I gather, as they have a short shelf-life.”

“Of course, of course,” Ada assured her, knowing her deputy’s dislike of being found wanting in any way. It was nice to be able to speak of such banal things for once, this teaching year having been just as eventful and difficult as the previous one. But it had ended on a high note, at least. Even Mildred Hubble had passed her exams with a higher grade than last year. “I was quite surprised, delightedly of course, at Mildred’s attainment this year. 62%, such a wonderful result.”

“Yes,” Hecate sniffed, her brows furrowing. “There…. _ **might** _ be a competent witch under those plaits after all.”

Ada chuckled to herself. Despite her brusque, unbelieving tone, Ada knew that Hecate cared a great deal for the girl, despite her mishaps. She had a way of growing on people, and Ada had seen more than few fond smiles from her deputy in Mildred’s direction when she wasn’t looking. Stealing a glance at her deputy, Ada smiled and chatted blithely on, keeping her deputy’s mind firmly on banal matters. There was a haunted look in Hecate’s eyes, had been ever since the incident with the Founding Stone at Halloween, and Ada hated to see it there. Talking of their beloved school seemed to lift it, at least for a little while.

They had just moved on to the other students’ results in the end of term exams when Hecate suddenly winced, as if developing a slight headache. It was so unlike the always stoic, collected witch that Ada set her cup down in alarm. “Hecate, are you quite alright?” she asked, frowning. At that moment, she felt a pang in her own temples.

“Just a mild headache…” Hecate said, a hint of strain in her voice. She stood from her chair, as she winced again. It came again, and she clutched her head, falling to her knees. Alarm raced through Ada as she dropped to her knees beside her, a hand on the younger woman’s arm. Her own headache was building in intensity, but it seemed Hecate’s was already excruciating as she clutched her head in her hands, long, pale fingers combing through her rigidly styled hair, undoing it. Her face was etched in agony, an expression Ada had never seen before on the collected witch’s features.

“Mild headache my foot,” Ada scoffed, taking her hand and placing the other on Hecate’s shoulder in an attempt to comfort her. “Hecate, where do you keep your pain relieving potions? Hecate…?”

But the deputy headmistress was insensate with pain. Hecate Hardbroom had never felt the like before. She could feel her magic reacting to the extreme stimulus, scrabbling away at the walls she had built to keep it under control, aching to get out and dissipate before it exploded without hope of restriction. She struggled to focus through the pain, deaf to Ada’s gentle entreaties, as she felt the onset of panic. But…it wasn’t…hers…

Underneath the blanket of pain in her mind, Hecate sought the focal point of that panic, mingling with terror and pain. It was…separate from her own, originating from somewhere outside her body, from outside the school. But she couldn’t concentrate enough to follow it back to its source, the pain was only mounting, those foreign emotions with it. It took everything she had to keep her magic contained, wrapping herself in a protective ball, cradling her head and shielding her eyes from the light that made it worse. Then she heard it.

A voice she knew only too well, even in terror. She was screaming. _MUM!_

“Mildred…Hubble,” she gasped, through gritted teeth. She was dimly aware of Ada’s questions, but couldn’t answer them. Didn’t have an answer to give. She didn’t know how, she just knew…Mildred Hubble was in mortal danger.

Ada was drawn from her alarm by the sound of an alert popping up on her maglet. She sent a summons to Miss Drill to come and assist her with Hecate, fear of her own racing in her blood at her agonised whisper. Somehow, something was happening to Mildred and Hecate had sensed it as if it was happening to her. Ada could feel the tiniest echo, and that was painful enough. The mystery of the why and wherefores, Ada pushed firmly aside. Time enough for that later. She needed to help Hecate, and then they needed to find out what had happened to Mildred.

Miss Drill materialised in the classroom, her eyes going wide at the sight of the fearsome deputy headmistress curled into a ball on the floor, the headmistress crouched beside her. “Dimity!” she sighed in relief. “Something’s happened to Miss Hardbroom. Please be so kind as to fetch a pain-relieving potion for her from the lab.”

“Of course, headmistress,” Dimity transferred away, leaving the two witches alone once more. Ada felt Hecate stir slightly under her hand, and peered at her in concern.

“Hecate?” she called, quietly.

“I’m…alright. The pain is ebbing,” she muttered, sitting up slowly. “Something‘s happened. Ada, I don‘t know how, or what, but something has happened to Mildred Hubble.”

In a flash, Ada recalled the alert on her maglet. She summoned it to her hand, peering down at the small red bell sign that had appeared on the display. It was something she’d hoped never to see. It had been a spell developed by a teacher at Miss Pentangle’s, to help schools stay in the loop in the event that misfortune befell a student outside term-time. Ada had been reluctant to use it, but today it would turn out to be a blessing. She tapped the symbol, and her jaw fell. “Oh dear,” she sighed, sadly. Hecate stared at her from the floor, her eyes still pinched with lingering pain. Ada met her eyes and shook her head. “Oh dear, indeed.”

* * *

 

A few hours later, Ada finally found what she was looking for. Or rather, waiting for. With a flick of her fingers, she projected the image on her maglet into the air for Hecate and the assembled staff to see. It was a local news report of an accident in the main high street of the town over which the school loomed, two cars and a bus. It was horrific, like a scene out of a war zone. There had apparently been some kind of explosion due to the fuel tanks of the bus and one of the cars being ruptured by the collision. The pavement was cracked and pitted, the tarmac even melted in some places, bubbling like fresh tar. The brightly coloured bus was defaced and blackened with soot, its roof missing and every window blown out so all that was left were jagged shards in their frames.

Ada’s heart raced as she glanced towards her deputy, her fears seemingly confirmed. The younger woman had gradually recovered from her strange episode, and now her lips were pressed into a pale, thin line on her angular face.

“Great Goddess!” Davina gasped, one hand trembling as she raised it to her mouth. “Mildred…”

“Is she….is there any news…?” Hecate asked, haltingly. Her eyes were suspiciously bright, but her face was cold and collected.

“She must be…” Mr Rowan-Webb gasped. “That explosion ripped those vehicles apart…”

Just then, the report cut away from footage of the crash and back to the newsreader. “The police have released a statement confirming that local nurse Julie Hubble, her sister Margaret Hubble and their mother Gwyneth Hubble, who were on the bus at the time of the collision, died upon arrival at the hospital. Ms Julie Hubble’s only daughter, Mildred, is alive and in a stable condition-”

As one, the entire teaching staff seemed to slump in on themselves, profound relief emanating from every one of them. “Oh, thank Merlin!” Ada sighed. Now they had confirmation that Mildred had survived, even if her family had not, Hecate breathed a sigh of relief, exhaling all the pent-up fear and uncertainty inside her with it. As the news footage once again cut to an image of the crash, her eyes narrowed as she stepped forward to inspect it.

“How did she survive?” she breathed, mind racing. “The explosion practically melted the bus they were on, so how could she…?” The answer came to her in a flash, her jaw dropping in shock and disbelief, but there were no other options, no alternatives to consider. “She used a shielding spell.”

“But shielding spells of that level, to protect herself against such danger, are way beyond the capacities of a twelve year-old girl!” Mr Rowan-Webb protested, his brows sharply slanted in a frown above his bushy eyebrows. Davina nodded in agreement.

“It is the only logical solution,” Hecate retorted coldly, despite the way her emotions were still roiling inside her, pressing against the bulwarks of her control. “In rare circumstances, when a young witch is threatened with a dangerous situation, she may tap into reserves of power she didn’t know she possessed. It would have been instinctual, messy. I doubt she could consciously repeat such a feat again if she tried.”

“Hecate, is now really the time for one of your usual tirades against the poor girl!?” Dimity snapped, eyes wide as she tore them away from the news footage, and glared in the Deputy Headmistress’s direction. “Her whole family is gone, her life torn apart, she’s lying in a hospital alone, and all you can do is critique her spell work?!”

Hecate closed her eyes, fighting for control as her hands curled into black-tipped fists at her side, before she opened them and turned to skewer Miss Drill with her icy glare. But whatever blistering retort she might have thrown the PE mistress’s way was silenced by Ada as she held up a quelling hand. “Enough, both of you. This isn’t helping poor Mildred,” the headmistress snapped, uncharacteristically brusque. “First, we need to find Mildred and see to it that she is unharmed and recovering. Then we will need to examine the crash site to ascertain for sure how Mildred survived where her family did not. Then we can better decide how to move forward. Now, can I count on you, Dimity and Hecate, to do so without this pointless bickering?”

Hecate backed down, feeling oddly shamed by Ada’s gentle but no-nonsense tone. For her part, the PE mistress nodded once, eyes resolutely turned away from the Deputy Headmistress. “Of course, Ada,” Hecate murmured. “We will report back when we have some answers,” she added, before sending Dimity a narrow glance. Without another word, she transferred, sensing Dimity do the same just a moment behind her. As she twisted into the nothingness of transference, she once again focussed on that little tendril inside of her, glowing bright and painfully strong, that was seemingly linked with the little witch lying in a hospital bed only a few miles away. She didn’t have time to marvel at it, to wonder at its origins, she simply followed where it pulled her.

To Mildred Hubble.

* * *

  _To be continued..._


	2. Maternal Instinct

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hecate and Dimity find Mildred and investigate the crash site. Ada and Hecate have some difficult decisions to make about Mildred's future. And a hint of a wild Hicsqueak appears....

When they transfered into the hospital, it was noisy, bustling and crowded, everything Hecate hated about the Ordinary World. Wrinkling her nose, she dodged out of the way of a gurney being wheeled in by four nurses, followed by a whole crowd of doctors and paramedics talking at double time.

She pushed herself back against the wall. The invisibility charm that protected all magical folk from being seen by Ordinary people didn’t make her incorporeal to them as well. They definitely didn’t need any reports of staff bumping into invisible people, especially if there were witnesses to Mildred’s shielding spell. She felt Dimity transfer in beside her, pushing herself back from the corridor as she had done.

“A&E,” Dimity breathed, eyes scanning the corridor. Hecate glanced at her questioningly, as the younger witch rolled her eyes. “Accident and Emergency. First port of call when someone gets seriously hurt in the Ordinary world.”

“I had no idea you were such an expert on the Ordinary world, Dimity,” Hecate remarked coolly. Dimity shot her a look.

“I’ve just spent more time here than most witches,” she shrugged, turning away from the older witch to scan the signs on the walls. “There. The Acute Care Unit, she’s most likely be moved there to free up bed space in A&E.”

Hecate said nothing as she followed Dimity down the corridor, through numerous doors, past curtained cubicles and into a much calmer corridor. Here, doctors in white coats and scrubs hurried to and fro, but it lacked the controlled chaos of the A&E wards. Hecate breathed a sigh of relief.

They peered into the bigger rooms, lined with curtained cubicles, but couldn’t see any trace of Mildred. They searched on, looking through observation windows into the private rooms. “Just out of interest,” Hecate asked, making Dimity tense slightly. “Why exactly are you so knowledgeable about hospitals?”

Dimity rolled her eyes, glancing away as they neared the nurses’ station. Hecate almost thought she was going to ignore her question, but the younger witch simply folded her arms and sighed.

“As you love to remind everyone, PE isn’t exactly seen as a ‘witchy’ thing,” she began to explain, her tone unusually cold and flat for the normally warm PE mistress. “So, I had to go to an Ordinary university to study it before I could do my teacher training. A friend of mine was injured playing rugby, a sport in the Ordinary world. Broke her spine in three places, paralysed below the waist for the rest of her life.”

“Oh…” Hecate trailed off, eyes wide. “And you were never tempted to…?”

“Of course I was!” Dimity snapped, still avoiding Hecate’s gaze as she rounded the nurses’ station and began scanning the list of patient names hung on the wall for Mildred’s name. “But I couldn’t, not even for a friend. The Code forbade it.”

“I am…very sorry, Miss Drill,” Hecate forced out; recognising that she’d perhaps stepped out of line.

“That’s alright, Miss Hardbroom. No need to strain yourself,” Dimity’s reply was her usual cheery self, if a little strained about the eyes still. Hecate rolled her eyes, but moved to her side as Dimity snapped her fingers in triumph. “She’s here, room 33B. It’s just down the next corridor.”

Hecate didn’t wait for the other witch to join her as she turned on her heel and strode down the corridor. It was the farthest room, right at the very end of the corridor, the blinds over the observation window drawn. With a nod at Dimity, Hecate transferred inside, just in case there was anyone sitting with Mildred who might be alarmed at the sight of a door opening and closing on its own.

* * *

 

The hospital room was as spartan and clinical as the rest of the hospital, with that starchy, tickly smell of cleaning chemicals that almost made one want to sneeze. The curtains over the window were drawn so the room was dimmed, expect for the soft glow of various machines clustered around a bed against the far wall. And in that bed was Mildred.

Hecate walked swiftly to the young girl’s side, dark eyes scanning her tiny little form, looking for injury. There appeared to be none, except Hecate could see a bandage around Mildred’s ankle where the blanket had fallen away slightly. Dimity appeared right next to her, as Hecate gathered her magic and cast a diagnostic spell. Her brow furrowed, as she gazed down at her young charge. “It’s as I suspected. Unconsciousness owing to magical overexertion. The strain of the shielding spell was simply too much for her. Some minor burns on her legs, but nothing I can‘t fix,” she told Dimity.

The younger witch nodded. “I’ll go see if I can track down her medical records,” she said, tearing her eyes away from the unmoving figure tucked in the bed, a suspicious gleam in her eyes. “Poor Mildred.” And with that, she transferred away, leaving Hecate alone with Mildred.

The witch turned back to gaze down at her once more, her frown only deepening as echoes of that fear and pain she’d felt in Ada’s office washed over her. “Oh, my girl,” she sighed, leaning over her and placing a hand against her forehead. She was feverish to the touch, another symptom of magical exhaustion. A lock of hair had fallen over her eyes, and Hecate gently pushed it back behind her ear before she could think too hard on it. Whatever atrophied, icy remnants of a heart she still had went out to the girl. The sight of her in the hospital bed felt so wrong, so unnatural; Mildred Hubble was a force of nature, filled with irreverent laughter and warmth. This impostor before her was small, pale and unmoving. And it would likely only get worse when she finally awoke, with everything she still had to face. _‘You’re going to be the death of me one day, Mildred Hubble…’_

____

Hecate’s eyes drifted to the strange contraptions beside Mildred’s bed, wincing at one in particular which appeared to be attached to a needle in the girl’s arm via a plastic tube. Clear liquid dripped down it, slowly making its way into Mildred’s bloodstream as Hecate frowned. “What in Merlin’s name…?”

“Don’t touch that!” Dimity’s voice pulled her from her thoughts, as she spun to face the younger witch as she transferred in beside her. “It’s called an IV line, an intravenous drip. It’s to keep her hydrated until she wakes up.”

“I’ve never understood the Ordinary proclivity to invent methods of torture that double as medical practice,” Hecate muttered, turning her back on Mildred to look at Dimity questioningly. “Well? What have you learned?”

“Other than the burns, the doctors here can find nothing wrong with her. They’re moving her to the children’s’ ward tomorrow morning. Other than that, we might have a problem,” Dimity explained. Hecate’s raised brow was question enough, as she continued. “I overheard some nurses talking in the staff room. It seems Social Services will be here soon to decide what to do with Mildred.”

“Social Services?” Hecate frowned.

“Since Mildred has no living family left, she’s a ward of the state now. They’ll probably put her in a children’s home or with a foster family once she’s recovered,” Dimity shrugged. “The social worker is due in the next few days.”

Hecate sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose irritably. There was just a slightest vestige of pain left over from…whatever that was in Ada’s office. This could potentially complicate matters. She’d had no idea the Ordinary world was so hands-on; in the magical world, the Council rarely got involved in incidences of child bereavement, as usually the covens cared for any orphaned children. “We’ll discuss it with Ada,” she said, opening her eyes and ignoring the concerned look in Dimity’s own. She turned back to look down on Mildred, feeling strangely reluctant to leave. But she had to. “There’s little more we can do for her right now. We need to examine the crash site. Come.”

Dimity nodded reluctantly, her eyes lingering on Mildred as she transferred away. Hecate hesitated too, her features softening as she watched her student sleep. “We’ll be back, Mildred,” she whispered. “You’re not alone. I promise.”

Feeling oddly off-balance and uncertain for the first time in her adult life, Hecate transferred away, leaving the comatose girl behind in the dark.

* * *

 

Hecate and Dimity materialised at the crash site in a whirlwind of smoky tendrils. It was, if anything, almost worse than the news footage they’d watched in Ada’s office. Unlike there, Hecate could still smell the iron smell of drying blood and burnt metal. The crash site was roped off by police incident tape, several trucks waiting nearby to remove the crumpled vehicles once the forensics team were done with them. The scene was heaving with uniformed police officers in bright fluorescent yellow jackets and detective constables in white boiler suits. There was a small gaggle of press taking what pictures they could, as Hecate’s lips curled in contempt. There were too many people around, this could potentially complicate matters.

With a sigh, Hecate twisted her fingers and cast a Distraction spell. Immediately, the officer obviously in charge called for a tea break, and the teams scattered, leaving only a few police officers on guard.

“Nicely done,” Dimity murmured, as they ducked under the incident tape, Hecate wrinkling her nose in distaste at the undignified position, and strode towards what was left of the bus. Hecate could feel traces of magic in the air, like the taste of burnt iron on her tongue. Ignoring the two cars, sensing no magical traces lingering in them. No, every well-honed instinct Hecate possessed was prodding her towards the bus. She barely waited for Dimity to join her as she clambered onboard, hand extended as she sought out the tendrils of remaining magic, following them like a string towards the back of the bus.

Inside, it was as twisted and blackened as the exterior, broken glass crunching under Hecate’s boots as she carefully inched down the aisle. She closed her eyes as she stopped beside the remnants of a pair of seats, just as burned and twisted as the rest of the bus, the metal of pole beside it curled and contorted into nightmarish shapes by the heat of the explosion that had torn apart the bus. Hecate splayed her fingers, searching for the echoes of Mildred’s magic, certain she’d found it. “This was where they were sitting,” she breathed, sensing more than hearing Dimity’s sharp intake of breath behind her. “Can you feel it?”

“A little,” Dimity said, eyes downcast. “Who knew Mildred had it in her?”

“Indeed,” Hecate replied quietly, opening her eyes as she stared down at the seat, eyes unseeing as she focused inward. She inhaled, and with it, breathed in the traces of magic left like snow on the seat. And like snow, they were starting to melt away.

First came the distinctive taste of Mildred’s magic, like oranges, sunlight and chocolate to Hecate’s senses, but imbued with a new element she would never have credited her with before, certainly not before she had come of age. It seemed Mildred Hubble possessed reserves of power they’d been unable to sense, that even the girl was unaware of. It reminded Hecate of the time Mildred had saved the school from Agatha in first year, standing in a circle with the other girls and chanting a spell to undo the dark witch’s annihilation spell. Mildred hadn’t been entirely sure how they’d succeeded in reversing Agatha’s spells, and at the time Hecate had put it down to the presence of the other students, chanting as one united voice. As a coven leader, Mildred had been a focal point of the spell, but the power had been shared. Or so Hecate had believed at the time. A part of her wondered if Mildred had given more of her power to the spell than anyone had suspected. Hecate frowned as she detected a second trace of magic, dark and smoky, like the taste of blood on her tongue, but it was so faint she almost believed she imagined it. She tried to find it again, but it had already melted away.

Mentally shaking herself, Hecate turned back to her main objective: trying to find out what Mildred had done to protect herself from the blast. Focusing her magic and her senses, she chanted softly: _“By the power of the sun and moon, by the will of the goddess and the seer, reveal now the magicks invoked here.”_

____

The air seemed to glow a radiant shade of gold, before turning to an iridescent sheen, like a bubble had been placed over reality. It was akin to the protection spell Hecate had cast over the students during Agatha and Ada’s duel on that Selection Day nearly two years ago. The day Mildred Hubble had come crashing into their lives like a whirlwind of clumsy limbs, runaway words and warm-hearted bravery.  
There were the tiniest, minute traces of other magic, too faint to be detected otherwise. The magic of the Hubble women, stripped but for the slightest traces in their blood, all but Mildred. Remembering her own fatalistic determination to sacrifice her magic for the school and Ada, Hecate internally shuddered, recalling the terror that had almost robbed her of her will at the thought. She imagined Mirabelle Hubble had once experienced the same thing but had found the will to go through with it regardless, to save her coven. A selflessness the likes of Ethel Hallow could not comprehend, but Hecate had felt towards her own little coven: the school, Ada and her girls. Including Mildred Hubble.

With a sigh, feeling a strong swell of sorrow in her breast, Hecate released the spell, letting the light fade away into nothingness, and with it the echoes of Mildred’s magic. “I was correct,” she told Dimity. “Mildred cast a shielding spell instinctively. But it was incomplete, flawed. She’d tried to extend it to her family, stretching herself too far for the spell to hold back all of the explosive force of the blast. Hence the burns on her legs.”

“She did well to avoid anything worse,” Dimity muttered, her eyes wide as she looked at Hecate. “Poor girl. Do you think she’ll remember what she tried to do?”

Underneath her words, Hecate could read what Dimity wasn’t saying. Like the fact Mildred had, at least to the girl’s mind, failed to protect her family. “I don’t know. Mildred is a smart girl, despite her lack of discipline. She’ll work it out. We’ll have to make sure she has all the support she needs.”

* * *

 

Not needing to see anything else, and in truth quite happy to leave that horrible scene behind, Hecate and Dimity transferred back to Ada’s office. The headmistress was pacing back and forth, eyes crinkled in a deep, sad frown. She spun to face the two witches as they transferred, clasping her shaking hands together. “Well?” she asked.

“We found her. She suffered some burns on her legs from the blast and she’s unconscious, but otherwise unharmed,” Dimity said.

“It is also as we suspected. Mildred used a shielding spell to protect herself during the crash. However, I believe she also tried to extend it to cover her family as well, but wasn’t quite able to manage it,” Hecate added. What else she suspected she wouldn’t say in front of Dimity, but would wait until she could speak with Ada alone. The older witch seemed to read Hecate’s reluctance in her face as she nodded and turned to sit down in her armchair.

“Then, we’ll need to discuss what to do now,” she concluded.

“There is a potential hiccup,” Dimity said, not noticing Hecate’s slight flinch at the word. “Mildred has no other family. Social Services will step in now and send her to a group children’s home or a foster family until she turns eighteen.”

“That does potentially complicate matters,” Ada mused, frowning. “There is no trace of her father? No family on that side at all?”

“As far as we know,” Hecate replied. “Mildred never spoke of any, and there was never any trace of her paternal line on the family trees they made last year with Miss Mould.” Those last two words held the barest trace of contempt. Marigold Mould had sacrificed everything to reignite the Founding Stone, but Hecate still found it difficult to forgive her for what she’d initially been willing to do, and the incidents she had been responsible for that had threatened the very existence of the school. No, she counted the extra grey hairs on Ada’s head from the past year and couldn’t find it in herself to forgive her. “If Mildred goes to a foster family, there may be a chance they will refuse to let her attend Cackles, and as a child of magical descent, we can’t in good faith leave her in the Ordinary World, not now.”

Dimity rolled her eyes. “Of course, now you know she’s of magical descent, now you care. One of these days, something is going to dislodge that traditionalist’s broomstick crammed up your ar-”

“Dimity, language please!” Ada snapped, forestalling any reply on Hecate’s part. The deputy headmistress simply settled on glaring at the PE mistress, her eyes as cold and dark as a winter’s night. “Now, I know that today’s events have left us all on edge and everyone in this castle cares greatly for Mildred,” Ada continued, emphasising the word as she stared Dimity down until the younger witch looked away. “Regardless of the way they show it. Hecate is right, and not just because of the girl’s bloodlines. As a witch whose power has been awakened, without continued training and education, the consequences could be disastrous for Mildred.”

“You’re right, headmistress,” Dimity nodded, eyes downcast. “I’m sorry, Ada, Hecate. I was out of line and I apologise.”

Only feeling slightly mollified, Hecate stepped closer to the PE mistress until she loomed over her as she did many of her students. “I am not one for overt displays of concern and affection, especially for a student who struggles daily to fit in here, and who already suffers scrutiny because of her origins. Showing any preference would only add to it. But do not imagine for one second, Miss Drill, that I care any less for Mildred Hubble than you. That would be a grave mistake on your part,” she said, in a quiet, deadly voice that had had many students cowering in their seats before now.

Dimity, to her credit, did not cower or turn away, just flinched and held Hecate’s eyes as she nodded. “Noted.”

* * *

 

The tension in the room was thick enough to rival frog gloop, as Ada sighed. Hecate and Dimity had never seen eye to eye on many subjects, but Mildred’s predicament seemed to be bringing out the worst in them. And the irony of it all was that their antagonism towards each other stemmed from the very same source: the fondness, concern and fear they felt for the young girl they were arguing over. Ada sighed, shaking her head sadly. “Now, I would like a word alone with Miss Hardbroom. Dimity, if you would?”

Dimity transferred away without another word, leaving the two senior witches behind. With the PE mistress’s departure, Hecate visibly relaxed, her habitual stiffness giving way to weariness as she sat down without prompting in the chair across from Ada’s. “How’s your head?” Ada asked, kindly.

“It twinges, every now and then,” Hecate admitted. “I don’t suppose you have any theories about why this has happened?”

“I have one or two, but I’m not certain yet,” Ada replied, despite the shrewd, searching gaze suddenly focussed on her features. “I could tell earlier there is more you wished to say, but not in front of Dimity. What is it?”

“When we visited the crash site, I was able to uncover the spell Mildred used to shield herself,” Hecate began to explain. “Ada…the spell was years beyond anything she could possibly have learned here. It was more akin to a shielding spell you or I might cast, as we did during your duel with Agatha on Selection Day two years ago. Mildred’s power is…considerably stronger than we ever could have dreamed. The only reason she was injured at all was she tried to stretch it too far, too fast.”

“Good heavens…oh, that poor girl,” Ada closed her eyes for a beat, before meeting Hecate’s sad eyes once more. “It makes it even more essential that we retrieve her before these ‘social workers’ spirit her off somewhere. But I am loath to make any decisions for Mildred without her input.”

“I could awaken her temporarily with a potion,” Hecate mused. “The effects would only be temporary, and she would have to return to her healing sleep after a few days. But it would be enough to consult with her. But Ada…is waking her the right thing to do? With everything she has to face…?”

“Ordinarily I wouldn’t disagree with you, Hecate,” Ada admitted. “But we must remember that Mildred is not without ties to the Ordinary World. We can’t just spirit her away and make it so she never existed there in the first place. And then there is conundrum of what to do with her if she agrees to come with us.”

Hecate sat back in her chair, thinking hard. Mildred’s coven were children, and while one of their families might be persuaded to take the girl in, something in Hecate shied away from that option. With the possibility of Mildred’s power growing exponentially, the girl would need close supervision and support from witches who knew what it was to carry the burden she would now carry herself. “I would suggest to the Magic Council, in lieu of familial or coven claims on the girl, that Mildred become a ward of Cackles Academy,” she finally pronounced, meeting Ada’s eyes steadily, despite the growing discomfort and the urge to avoid the older witch’s gaze. “And…it might do her good to be somewhere familiar but removed from any association with her family, while she heals.” What she didn’t tell Ada, couldn’t tell her and indeed barely understood herself, was the urge that had been awakened in her the moment she’d seen Mildred lying unmoving and pale in that hospital bed. So instead she buried that urge deep under her usual pragmatic, composed self and waited for Ada’s reaction.

Ada thought through Hecate’s proposal, brows furrowed. She could see the merit in such a plan, but it hinged on Mildred’s agreement. She wouldn’t force the girl into anything. “Very well. Hecate, start on that potion. The sooner we talk to Mildred, the better.”

Hecate inclined her head, transferring away with a twist of her fingers. Ada leant back in her seat, staring into the fire as Pendle jumped onto her lap to comfort his mistress.

* * *

 

In the potions lab, Hecate began assembling the ingredients she’d need for the potion. It was a combination of a Wide-Awake potion and an Adrenaline potion, designed to keep Mildred awake long enough for them to talk to her. The familiar routine of assembling and preparing her ingredients soothed her, easing some of the tension that had set in since that morning. She refused to allow any unnecessary thoughts to intrude and disrupt her focus, forcibly elbowing them aside in her head if they dared try.

She heard a chime and realised with a start that it was time for her daily mirror call with Pippa. She transferred her mirror from her rooms, tapping at the concave surface to answer the call. Pippa Pentangle’s delicate features appeared on the mirror’s surface, smiling happily up at Hecate, making her heart stop and then stutter along chaotically. Hecate gave it a stern talking to and an icy glare, before letting herself smile down at Pippa. “Good afternoon, Pippa. I regret I can’t really talk freely right now,” she said, hurriedly if reluctantly. Disappointment flitted across Pippa’s perfect face, before concern bloomed.

“Hiccup, whatever is the matter?” she asked, alarm blooming in her eyes. Hecate sighed, pausing for a moment. Pippa must have seen more than Hecate wished her to, as she gasped. “Oh Hiccup, are you alright? Has something happened to Ada?”

“No, no…” Hecate forced out, closing her eyes for a moment. “It’s…Mildred.”

“Mildred?” Pippa gasped, eyes widening. “Hecate, what’s happened?”

  
Taking a deep breath, Hecate forced out a short explanation. Even stripped of all but the most salient facts, it was enough to make Pippa go pale and tears gather in her eyes. “Oh, poor sweetheart,” she whispered, as Hecate exhaled tremulously.

“I’m sorry, Pipsqueak, to miss our call but I need to finish this potion. Can we talk tomorrow?” she asked, keeping an eye on her cauldron as it started to bubble. The bindweed was starting to brown as well.

“Of course, go, go!” Pippa made a shooing motion with her hands. “And if there’s anything I can do, Hecate…”

“Of course, Pippa,” Hecate smiled, warm if a bit weary. As Pippa said her goodbyes and disappeared from the mirror, she reflected she might be asking for Pippa’s help sooner than the other witch might think.

* * *

 

_To be continued…_

 


	3. Rude Awakenings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hecate and Ada go to awaken Mildred and encounter a potential problem. Dimity's eyes are opened and Mildred makes a difficult decision about her future.

Night had fallen by the time Hecate strained the potion into a flask and put a stopper in it carefully. The potion was volatile in its first moments before being drunk and Mildred could only take a small amount or risk adverse effects, at her young age.

As she cleaned her tools and waved them back to their rightful places, she took a deep breath, chasing away the acrid aftertaste of potions from spending some hours bent over a cauldron. As she exhaled, she looked deep inside herself for that fragile little tendril of power linking her to Mildred. It had gone dormant once they transferred into the hospital, but had bloomed back to life the moment they’d left to investigate the crash site. Hecate frowned as she opened her eyes, unaware that she’d closed them in the first place. For the life of her, she’d never felt anything like this, and it certainly didn’t match anything she’d ever read or witnessed about coven bonds. It would bear investigating, before term started in September.

Ada transferred in just as Hecate summoned her cloak and hat to her. With a grim smile, she nodded to the older witch as she carefully tucked the flask into an inside pocket of her cloak. “Ready?” Ada asked, with a tremulous sigh. Hecate answered with a small nod.

With a twist of their fingers, they transferred away to the hospital, Ada following Hecate’s lead as she let the bond between herself and Mildred pull her to the girl.

They materialised in the girl’s hospital room. Mildred lay where they had left her, small, pale and motionless in her bed. Then they realised they weren’t alone.

Ada gently pulled Hecate into a corner, watching the two people standing beside Mildred’s bed intently. One was obviously a doctor; a young Indian woman with a pen stuck behind her ear and brightly patterned scrubs under her white coat. The other, for some reason, made the hairs on the back of Hecate’s neck stand up.

She was an unremarkable looking specimen - short, tending towards dumpy and clad in a frilly pink cardigan that Hecate suspected even Pippa would draw a line at. She peered at the doctor through square shaped black glasses, an odd wrinkling occurring around her nose like she smelled something bad. “Of course I understand your position, dear,” she said obsequiously, patting the doctor’s arm. “I never meant to suggest that she be moved to the home _**before** _ she wakes up, dearie me!”

Hecate immediately decided she didn’t like this woman. Something about her manner reminded her a little of Ursula Hallow and Miss Gullet, alternately. “But the poor dear really needs a better place to recuperate than a children’s ward,” she continued, snapping her fingers. “And I know just the place. A lovely little home just outside of-”

“Be that as it may, Miss Cartwright,” the doctor interrupted coolly. “We can’t make any decisions until she wakes up. It’s her choice whether she’ll go to a home or a foster family. And they’re searching for her paternal family, something might still come up.”

“Of course, of course,” Miss Cartwright smiled sweetly, but there was an edge to her smile that made Hecate tense. She glanced at Mildred, then huffed. “I’ll have to inform my manager. I’ll come back tomorrow to see how she is. If she wakes, you’ll call?”

“Of course,” the doctor inclined her head, watching the social worker narrowly as she turned on her heel and left. As the door closed behind her, she shuddered and shook herself. “Creepy old bat,” she muttered, with one last glance over Mildred to check her vitals. The door closed behind her with a click.

* * *

 

Ada cast a befuddlement spell at the door, preventing anyone from disturbing them as Hecate removed her cloak and retrieved the flask. “I don’t like that woman…” she said, moving to Mildred’s side.

“Yes, I found her rather grating myself,” Ada chuckled, turning and perching sideways on the bed beside Mildred.

Hecate didn’t add the reasons why she didn’t like that woman. Her instincts were screaming at her, but she could find no discernible reason why. She certainly hadn’t sensed any magic in the woman.

“Of course, this could make things difficult,” Ada was saying, drawing the younger witch from her thoughts. “Now the authorities are involved, we can’t simply whisk Mildred away, should she decide to come with us.”

“We could simply use a befuddlement spell,” Hecate offered.

“Befuddlement spells wear off, and they don’t always take,” Ada shook her head. “We’ll think of something. Ready?”

Hecate nodded, doing as Ada had done and turning to perch beside Mildred, facing the sleeping girl. She scrutinised her closely, noting her still peaky complexion and the dark shadows under her eyes. “She’ll only be able to stay awake for a few hours at a time, Ada,” she warned the older witch. “And even then I would only recommend a maximum of three doses before we risk doing serious harm.”

“That’ll do. Wake her, Hecate,” Ada said, nodding once.

Hecate hooked a hand under Mildred’s head, sinking her fingers into soft dark brown hair, so dark it almost looked black. She lifted the girl’s head until her body followed, cradling her supportively as she un-stoppered the flask and poured a few drops into Mildred’s mouth. Unconsciously, she tucked a trailing strand of hair back, not seeing Ada’s fond, knowing smile as she watched the two of them. Laying the girl back against the pillow, Hecate closed her eyes and pressed a hand to the girl’s head, gathering her magic. _“From dark sleep’s halls, I summon you Mildred Hubble, to speak with us now until you must return to slumber’s calls.”_

The girl’s breathing, at first slow and deep, began to get faster, her eyelids flickering as the potion slowly forced her awake, granting her the strength for a few hours. Hecate lowered her hand and sat back, not wanting to startle her. Mildred grimaced and twitched as she emerged from sleep, wrinkling her nose as a little frown appeared on her forehead. It was strangely…adorable.

Face flushing at the thought, which she hurriedly shoved aside before it could show any further, Hecate glanced at Ada and nodded, to which the older witch carefully leant in and began to called Mildred’s name. “Mildred? Mildred, its Miss Cackle. Can you hear me, my dear?” she asked, softly.

“M-miss Cackle?” Mildred’s frown only deepened as she slowly, painfully inched her eyes open. “Miss Hardbroom?”

“Yes, my dear. We’re both here,” Ada said, gently. “You’re in hospital. Do you remember?”

“Hospital? We were on the bus and…but I thought….that was…a bad dream,” Mildred’s frown deepened, as panic began to set in those dark eyes. Hecate felt her heart suddenly pound with dread and pity for her, as her eyes darted between her two teachers. “Mum…where’s Mum?”

Ada and Hecate exchanged a glance, but the latter stayed silent. She’d never been known for empathy, and she could feel her own kind of panic set in as realisation grew in Mildred’s eyes. She inhaled deeply, stretching out with her magic to try and calm the girl. She could feel Mildred’s magic as it grew unsettled and jumpy, responding to her emotional state, and it nearly took her breath away. How could she have missed such power, such capacity for magic before?

“Where’s Mum, I want her. I want my mum!” Mildred cried out, as Ada reached out to grip her shoulder. “Where is she? I want my Mum!”

But despite the denials streaming forth in a strangled cry from Mildred’s lips, Hecate could see she knew very well where her mother was. “Mildred, dear…I am so sorry,” Ada breathed, unable to say anything else at the sight of their young pupil slowly breaking down. “I’m so sorry.”

“Stop saying that! She’s….not, she’s not…-” Mildred exploded, anger overtaking denial as tears sprang to her eyes. She went to get out of bed, uncaring of the IV line still attached to her arm, and Hecate reached out with an arm to stop her. “She’s not, she’s not, she’s not!” Mildred kept repeating, screaming it as Hecate’s body barred her from leaving the bed.

“Mildred! Mildred Hubble!” Hecate barked, unable to stop herself as the girl abruptly froze and stopped fighting. Her magic was straining at the girl’s tenuous control, as Hecate fought down the fear that had bloomed in her when she sensed it burgeoning with Mildred’s fear and anger. But at her teacher’s stentorian bark, Mildred stopped and sagged, leaning into Hecate’s body. She stiffened, unused to having anyone so close let alone a student, as Mildred began to cry tears of such sorrow and heartbreak, Hecate could almost feel her own shatter along with her. She looked helplessly at Ada, desperate for the older witch to take over, sure she would be the better choice to comfort Mildred but Ada looked as lost as she. With a pointed glance, she placed a hand on Mildred’s mussed brown hair instead. Mildred didn’t want Ada; for some unknowable reason, she wanted Hecate.

Inhaling deeply, Hecate slowly closed her arms around Mildred, cradling the girl into her body. Her hands awkwardly hovered over the girl’s back, holding her breath as she waited for the girl to come to her senses and push her away. Mildred did no such thing, just sobbed and leaned closer into Hecate’s warmth, as the witch softened. She lowered her hands and let them lie on Mildred’s back and neck, holding her tighter as she tucked the girl’s head under her chin.

Ada watched them and felt tears spring to her eyes, not just in sorrow for Mildred but at the aching tenderness in her deputy’s eyes and face as she stared down at the girl in her arms. Neither spoke, just letting Mildred cry out her grief without complaint, without moving, as the hours ticked on and the night began to give way to the dawn. Mildred once again succumbed to sleep, her tears finally stopped as Hecate still held her, one hand now gently stroking the girl’s hair in sleep, quite unknowingly Ada would have bet.

* * *

 

Ada’s bones creaked and ached. She was really getting too old for late nights. With a reluctant sigh, she sent a summons to Dimity on her maglet, to come and take over the watch for her. Glancing up at Hecate, she briefly considered summoning Mr Rowan-Webb to do the same for her, but watching the two witches, somehow Ada realised that not even a whole flock of Hypnapillions would be enough to pull Hecate away from her charge, regardless of the weariness Ada could see in Hecate’s face. Plus, she had a few inquiries to make before she could eliminate a few theories about why Hecate could sense Mildred’s pain.

“Hecate,” she whispered, hesitantly. The younger witch looked to her questioningly, a touch of colour in her cheeks as Ada tried not to smile. “I must return to the school. Dimity’s coming to relieve me. Will you be alright to try talking to Mildred again and inform me of her decision?”

Hecate inclined her head, loath to disturb the sleeping child’s rest. At that moment, Dimity transferred in beside Ada. “Headmistress…” she started to say, but stopped dead at the sight in front of her. Her eyes almost bulged out of their sockets.

Hecate rolled her eyes. “Oh for Merlin’s sake,” she muttered irritably. “Contrary to popular opinion, I’m not _**completely** _ made out of ice. Do stop staring, Dimity, you look like you’re under a total obedience spell again.”

At Hecate’s usual waspish tone, Dimity seemingly snapped out of her daze. “Right, sorry,” she forced out, looking away hurriedly as Hecate gently settled Mildred back against her pillow, embarrassment burning in her cheeks despite her defiant words. Ada just sighed and shook her head.

“I’ll be back in a few hours,” she promised, before transferring away. An awkward silence fell between the two teachers, as Dimity took a seat in the chair beside Mildred’s bed while Hecate remained sitting stiffly beside her student.

Eventually, Dimity worked up the courage to break the silence. “Did you manage to wake her up? How did it go? Does she remember anything?” she asked, cautiously, glancing in Mildred’s direction.  
“Yes to all three,” Hecate sighed. “She was…distraught. We didn’t get a chance to discuss what Mildred wanted.”

“Poor little thing,” Dimity sighed, before eying Hecate sideways. “When are you going to try again?”

“Now. We don’t have time to wait,” Hecate said, almost apologetically. “Social Services have become involved. The sooner we decide on a course of action, the better.”

Dimity nodded as Hecate tipped a few more drops of the potion into Mildred’s mouth, then repeated the spell to awaken her. Mildred blinked awake, her features crumpling as her eyes frantically sought out her form mistress’s. “It wasn’t a dream, was it?” she asked, her voice a husky rasp.

Hecate shook her head, a gentleness in her voice and mien that Dimity had certainly never seen before, except perhaps when in Ada’s presence. “I’m sorry, Mildred,” she said quietly. “Now, I need you to listen to me. I know…that right now your feelings are tearing you apart and you will have to face them. But right now, we need to talk about what’s going to happen next.”

Mildred glanced sideways, obviously looking for Miss Cackle but finding the PE mistress in her place. “Well met, Miss Drill,” she whispered, touching her hand to her forehead. Dimity smiled, despite the feeling of her heart breaking, and returned the greeting. Mildred looked down at her hands, fingers rubbing at the bandage that held the IV in place. “What’s going to happen to me now?”

Hecate took a deep breath, relieved that Mildred hadn’t dissolved into tears once more. She could see the struggle the girl was having keeping her emotions in check, and so spoke without preamble. She quickly explained what she and Miss Cackle had witnessed that morning, with Miss Drill corroborating when needed. As tactful as she tried to be, Hecate couldn’t prevent Mildred’s eyes welling up at every allusion to the loss of her family. “So I’m going to be put with a foster family?” Mildred asked, her voice shaking.

“That is one option,” Hecate said, slowly. “In our world, when a young witch or wizard loses their family, their coven members may take the charge. As your coven sisters are all children, we could try to persuade Miss Spellbody or Miss Nightshade’s parents to take you. Or you could come back to Cackle’s, and become a ward of the school until you come of age. It’s your decision.”

Mildred’s eyes hadn’t left her potions’ mistress’s face since she’d started speaking, a small frown forming as she thought over what her teachers were saying. When she spoke, it was slow and thoughtful, making Hecate’s heart swell with pride at the maturity in her voice. “I don’t want to live with a foster family or in a group home. What if they won’t let me come back to school? I…I want to live at Cackles, if that’s okay…I just don’t want to be a burden to anyone.”  
“You wouldn’t be, no matter what choice you make,” Dimity interjected from the side, as Mildred glanced at her before meeting Hecate’s gaze once more.

She nodded. “I want to live at Cackles.”

Hecate exhaled, letting out a breath she didn’t even know she’d been holding in. “Then I will inform Miss Cackle so we can apply for guardianship of you from the Great Wizard,” she declared, standing from the bed. Without thinking, Mildred’s hand shot out to grasp her wrist, a panicked look in her eyes. Dimity’s eyes widened, waiting for the inevitable explosion from Hecate, considering the shock and anger growing in the older witch’s eyes.

Mildred apparently realised what she’d done, as she dropped her hand with a sheepish “Sorry,” and lowered her head so her eyes were hidden. Dimity stared as Miss Hardbroom softened, her eyes turning from stony to tender, as she awkwardly patted Mildred’s arm.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can. Until then, Miss Drill will stay with you,” she said, reassuringly. Mildred nodded, and without another word Hecate transferred away, leaving Miss Drill alone with the young girl.

* * *

 

At that moment, there came a knock on the door as the befuddlement spell disappeared. Miss Drill quietly stood up and slipped into the corner of the room, out of the way of anyone about to enter, but where Mildred could still see her.

“Oh, you’re awake at last!” a saccharinely sweet voice exclaimed, as a woman in a pink cardigan and a doctor entered. “Oh, you poor dear!”

Miss Drill figured her for the social worker, as the doctor set to examining Mildred with soft-spoken questions, the young girl’s eyes flitting to the corner where she stood every so often. She made sure to give the girl reassuring smiles every time she did, but unease was starting to grow, crawling under her skin like insects. Something didn’t feel right.

When the doctor’s examination was complete, she stepped back as the woman in pink took the seat beside Mildred, flabby hand shooting out to grasp Mildred’s tightly. “Now, I think it’s time we had a chat,” she smiled, an oddly hungry look in her eyes that only Mildred and Dimity could see. Dimity felt a chill down her spine as the social worker started talking, body and magic poised to act in case something happened, and damn the Witches’ Code.

* * *

 

_To be continued…_

 


	4. Red Tape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hecate and Ada apply to the Great Wizard for custody of Mildred. Dimity and Mildred are left unnerved by their encounter with Miss Cartwright, meeting an unexpected ally in the process. Dimity is in for the surprise of her life...

Hecate truly hated civil servants. Despite pressure from both her family and from her mentor, Mistress Broomhead, Hecate had never had any love for politics or the bureaucracy that came with it. Which was why it was taking every iota of patience she possessed to avoid simply turning the impudent little toad in front of her into an _**actual** _ toad.

“The Great Wizard is rather busy, Miss Cackle,” the secretary was insisting for what felt like the twentieth time. “I can’t just let you in without an appointment.”

“I’m well aware of that,” Ada said, with a degree of patience Hecate envied in that moment. But even Ada was beginning to lose her cool with this particularly infuriating specimen. “But we have something of an emergency on our hands. It’s matter of some urgency.”

As the secretary went to open his mouth again, a portentous look on his florid features, Hecate fixed him with a glare as she stepped forward. “It is not wise to stand in the way of a witch on a mission, Mr Oaksap,” she began, her icy voice making the wizard’s eyes widen as blood drained from his face. “And just imagine the trouble you’ll be in when it becomes known you impeded the Head and Deputy Headmistress of Cackle’s Academy in their duty of care to a student. Now… **Let**. **Us**. **In**.”

Mr Oaksap swallowed compulsively; in such a way that he reminded Hecate of the way Maud Spellbody would sometimes gulp when she found herself staring up at her potions mistress. “V-very well,” he stammered, hand shaking as he turned to press the intercom button on his desk. “Your G-greatness, apologies for the interruption.”

“What is it, Basil? I’m rather preoccupied here,” the Great Wizard’s tired, bored tones came over the intercom.

“I-it’s Miss Cackle and Miss Hardbroom here to see you, sir. T-they claim it is a matter of urgency,” Mr Oaksap explained, tremulously. Ada shot Hecate a quelling look, despite the suspicious twitching in the corners of the older witch’s lips. Hecate stared back, unapologetically, as the nervous wizard before them fidgeted and wrung his hands together, glancing at Hecate every few minutes.

After a long pause, the Great Wizard sighed over the intercom. It sounded rather like the groan of a particularly grumpy ghost. “Very well, send them in.”

“At once, Your Greatness,” Mr Oaksap bowed as if his master could see him, before regaining something of his formerly pompous manner as he straightened and regarded Ada and Hecate. “You may go in.”

Hecate smiled, coldly, as Ada thanked him. To her infinite amusement, the wizard blanched again and swallowed hard. As they walked past, Ada tutted. “Really, Hecate. I know you enjoy playing the bad cop to my good cop but-”

“I can’t help if all men are weak-willed fools,” Hecate scoffed. “And _**bad cop**_? _**Good cop**_ , _**really**_? You’ve been watching too many Ordinary police procedurals again.”

Ada rolled her eyes, shaking her head as she followed Hecate into the Great Wizard’s arboretum.

* * *

 

Mildred listened silently as the social worker, Miss Cartwright, whittled on brightly about the children’s home she’d be moved to, just as soon as the doctors gave the green light to release her. Meanwhile, the doctor quickly took some blood samples and removed her IV, smiling apologetically when Mildred yelped at the sharp sting as the needle was removed. “Sorry about that,” she murmured, wiping away the blood with a cotton wool bud before taping a fresh one to the puncture. “Now, we’re going to run a few more tests before we let you go. Okay, sweetheart? And…if you want, I can call a counselor down here to talk to you?”

Mildred went to reply, but Miss Cartwright cut across her impatiently. “No, no there’s no need. We have plenty of counsellors at the home I was telling you about. No, the sooner we can get you away and settled in, the better,” she said cheerily. In the corner, Dimity narrowed her eyes.

“Over my dead body,” she muttered. The doctor looked up sharply, staring at the corner where Dimity stood, making the witch freeze. Mildred’s jaw dropped slightly, as Miss Cartwright obliviously wittered on.

“Now, how long are these tests going to take?” she asked the doctor, drawing her attention away from Dimity’s corner.

“Several hours, I’m afraid,” the doctor replied, with a patently forced smile for the social worker. “Maybe even tomorrow morning.”

Miss Cartwright’s blithe smile faded a megawatt or two, as Dimity heard Mildred breathe a sigh of relief. “Well, my manager won’t be too pleased,” she huffed.

“Rules are rules, Miss Cartwright, as I’m sure you appreciate,” the doctor’s smile turned even more pointed, as she glanced down at Mildred’s medical file, ticking something off.

“But…” Mildred began to speak, drawing the attention of both women, and Dimity. She had her ‘thinking yet innocent’ face on, the one Dimity recognised from incidents at school where Mildred had to lie her way out of detention, not always successfully. “Hasn’t anyone heard from my…great aunt and cousin?”

“I’m sorry, who?” Miss Cartwright blustered, her eyes widening.

“Mildred, do you have…other relatives?” the doctor asked gently. She nodded slowly.

“My Great-Aunt Amelia Connor and Cousin…Harriet,” she said, as Dimity smirked. _Nice improv, Mildred_. “We found them a few years ago, on my dad’s side.”

As Mildred kept expanding on her little story, Dimity watched the face of the social worker growing ever paler and more sour. Surreptitiously, she reached into her pocket and retrieved her maglet, quickly tapping out a message to Ada and Hecate to let them know the latest development and Mildred’s little cover story if they needed one.

“I think Mum had their number at home, in her address book,” Mildred finished, with a telling tremble to her mouth as the doctor cleared her throat.

“Well, I’ll need to look into this,” Miss Cartwright replied, sourly. But her face abruptly brightened, as a strangely insistent, cajoling note entered her voice. “But doesn’t the home sound lovely, Mildred? Acres and acres of woodland to run around in, fresh air, other girls to play with and so much to see and draw-!”

“Who told you I liked to draw?” Mildred interrupted, a small frown growing in her eyes. Miss Cartwright stopped, her face drained of blood, before she drew herself up to her full, unimpressive, height and began to bluster.

“Well, most little girls like to draw. I just assumed-”

“I think what Mildred most needs now is some rest. She only just woke up this morning. I must insist we leave this conversation for now,” the doctor interjected firmly, eyes darting between the social worker and Mildred, as if searching for answers there. For a moment, Dimity was sure she glanced over at her corner once more, before she dismissed it as paranoia. The atmosphere in the room was as tense as a thunder storm, sending ripples of unease down the PE mistress’s spine. “And I’m sure you have plenty to be getting on with, Miss Cartwright. Not least contacting Mildred’s Great-Aunt and cousin.”

“Yes…yes, of course,” Miss Cartwright muttered, looking distinctly frazzled. “I’d better get on that. Your Mum’s address book, you said?”

Mildred nodded, all but glaring at Miss Cartwright as the social worker fiddled with the strap of her offensively bright handbag. The doctor smiled, going to the door and opening it pointedly. “I’ll be sure to give you a call when the test results come back, Miss Cartwright. Good afternoon,” she ushered the woman out with a professional smile that, nevertheless, brooked no disobedience. It rather reminded of Miss Hardbroom at her most unstoppable, but warmer. Like the difference between a glacier and a hurricane.

Miss Cartwright swept out of the room with her nose dangerously high in the air, and the doctor closed the door with a sigh of relief. This time, Dimity knew she wasn’t imagining it when she glanced at her corner before looking at Mildred. “Mildred, my name is Doctor Chandra Nandi. I know you don’t know me from Adam, but I need you to answer me honestly. Is there a dark-skinned woman standing in that corner, in black and turquoise blue robes?”

Both Mildred and Dimity gasped, eyes wide as they stared at the doctor.

“All these years, I thought I was crazy,” Doctor Nandi smiled, eyes darting between the two witches. “Guess I’m not the only one. Who are you?”

* * *

 

The Great Wizard was sat at his desk, surrounded by the greenery of the arboretum he called an office, the sunlight streaming down. With his sapphire blue robes and flowing white beard, he looked somewhat incongruous. Green, in many respects, was a witch’s colour. He glanced up from the roll of parchment he’d been perusing, a weary smile on his face as he stood to greet them. “Well met, Miss Cackle, Miss Hardbroom.”

“Well met, Great Wizard,” they replied in unison, the usual greeting of a witch to the most powerful wizard in the country unusually abbreviated and abrupt. He frowned, sensing the anxiety and agitation that both witches exuded, his eyes lingering on the dark shadows under Hecate’s eyes and the sad, harried look in Miss Cackle’s own.

“Now, tell me. What is so urgent that you’ve all but barged into my office, hm?” he asked.

“I’m afraid a dreadful tragedy has occurred, Your Greatness,” Ada began. “It concerns Mildred Hubble.”

Quickly, Ada outlined the bare facts of the situation. She explained the Ordinary regulations for dealing with such things and the risk of losing Mildred to a foster home. She did not, to Hecate’s silent approval, mention the shielding spell or her deputy headmistress’s strange bond to the girl. That was something they saw no need to tell anyone, especially not before they worked out the whys and wherefores. The Great Wizard’s brows rose almost to his hairline when Ada outlined their plan to take Mildred as a ward of the school until she came of age.

“Oh goodness gracious!” he breathed. “Well, my heart goes out to the poor girl but…are you sure about this, Ada? Is there no trace of the girl’s father?”

“None, Your Greatness,” Ada shook her head. “And I am quite sure.”

“And what of you, Hecate Hardbroom? Once upon a time I seem to recall you were quite keen to see the back of Mildred Hubble,” he asked, turning to eye the potions’ mistress piercingly. Hecate refused to be cowed, as she drew herself up to her full height, feeling the weight of both the Great Wizard and Ada’s gaze upon her.

“With respect, Your Greatness…that was then and this is now,” she replied firmly, before pausing to gather her thoughts. Despite her many, many mishaps and missteps over the years; Mildred Hubble has proven herself as a witch, as you yourself can attest. Despite her lack of knowledge of our world, her courage, tenacity and boldness have saved the school many times over, and more than that, she has saved both my life and Ada’s just as often in the process. But there is more…Mildred Hubble is not the ignorant young girl who first crash-landed in the school pond two years ago. Her power has awakened and it cannot be suppressed, not now. If we abandoned her now, we’d be condemning her to a lifetime of suffering from lack of magical control and isolation. To abandon her now would be to break the Witches’ Code itself.”

“Yes, that is true,” the Great Wizard conceded. “But still, she is not from a witching family. None would blame you for walking away.”

Hecate felt the sting of his words and drew a breath in through gritted teeth. “Then those who would, are not fit to be a part of our world,” she replied. “And though it matters not…Mildred is of a witching family, Your Greatness.”

“What?” the Great Wizard’s eyebrows practically disappeared into his receding hairline in shock.

“You recall the incident at Halloween, involving the Founding Stone?” Ada asked. When he nodded, she hurriedly explained the circumstances of Mildred’s discovery of her bloodline, and the story of Mirabelle Hubble.

Once she finished, the Great Wizard sat back in his chair, one hand over his mouth. “By the Stone, no wonder no one had ever heard of her if the last magical Hubble lived over three hundred years ago,” he said quietly. “And now I see where she gets her bravery from.”

Hecate just barely suppressed a roll of her eyes. The Great Wizard had, eventually, supported Mildred’s place at the Academy but old prejudices died hard, it seemed. Including her own, she conceded to herself. “Your Greatness,” she interjected. “With respect…what say you to our proposal? Do we have your support?”

“I can’t help but note you said ‘ _support_ ’ not ‘ _permission_ ’, Hecate Hardbroom,” he replied, gruffly but there was a kind twinkle in his eye. She flushed but held his gaze as he nodded. “Very well. If Mildred is willing, you may take her with my blessing.”

Ada let out a relieved breath as she smiled, while Hecate just blinked. Well, that was easier than expected…she’d had numerous arguments lined up, expecting more resistance from the old wizard. But she wasn’t about to push their luck.

They bowed and left the arboretum quickly, pausing only in the atrium as Ada checked her maglet. “Well, that went well,” she said, distractedly.

“I must admit I wasn’t expecting him to be so…acquiescent to the idea. Although, it felt like he was testing us a few times,” Hecate mused. Ada glanced up with a smile.

“Testing us…or testing _you_?” she asked, as Hecate stared at her, nonplussed. Before the younger witch could so much as think of a reply, an alert popped up on Ada’s maglet.

Reading the message, Ada began to frown darkly. “It seems Mildred’s social worker is a determined sort. Now Mildred is awake, they’re planning to move her tomorrow.”

“Only until the second dose runs out,” Hecate replied, checking her watch. “Which will be in three hours time.”

“More than that…it seems Mildred has found a way to stall them. Apparently, she has claimed family on her father’s side…a ‘Great-Aunt Amelia Connor and Cousin Harriet’…” Ada chuckled, shaking her head. Hecate frowned in confusion.

“But I thought she had no family….” she trailed off, as understanding flashed. “Oh.”

“‘Oh’ indeed. Clever girl,” Ada shook her head fondly. “Come, Hecate. We have not a moment to lose.”

* * *

 

“You’re a witch too!” Mildred exclaimed excitedly. “That’s why you can see Miss Drill!”

Dimity’s jaw dropped, her eyes nearly popping out of their sockets. Chandra just smiled. “Is that what you call yourselves?” she asked. “I’ve been seeing invisible people walking around for the better part of my life. Just thought I was psychotic, but there wasn’t any combination of meds that stopped me from seeing things other people couldn’t. Like that castle on top of the mountain.”

“Oh my giddy bats,” Dimity gasped. “Well…well met, I guess. My name is Dimity Drill, PE mistress at Cackle’s Academy.”

“It’s a school, it’s in the castle on the mountain you can see!” Mildred added, eyes transfixed on Chandra’s face. It was the most animated Dimity had seen her since she woke up.

“But this is impossible…” Dimity breathed. “Unless…she’s like you, Mildred.”

Chandra’s gaze swung from the exuberant girl on the bed to her, making Dimity flush for some reason. She had quite lovely eyes, a deep hazel. “What do you mean?”

“Usually, a witch’s power is passed down the matrilineal line,” Dimity explained, hurriedly. “To put it simply, when we met Mildred, she was the first witch we’d encountered whose mother was _**not** _ a witch. As it turned out, Mildred had witches in her ancestry, and the power had been passed down from them. You…might be the same, I suppose.”

Chandra, frowning, opened her mouth to speak again when she was surprised by the sudden materialisation of two more women in the room. Two women she’d seen before, though she’d done her best to ignore them. They were a study in contrasts: one was short and tending towards rotund, a pink cardigan over her sensible black dress. The other was as tall as an Amazon, silky dark hair tightly bound in a braided bun, covered from chin to toes in black. Her red lips were compressed into a tight line, as her eyes skipped over Chandra and focussed on Mildred.

“Miss Cackle! Miss Hardbroom!” Mildred exclaimed, something in the girl relaxing at the sight of her two teachers. “This is Doctor Nandi. She’s a witch too!”

“Impossible!” Hecate breathed, eyes widening as she turned to stare at the young doctor incredulously. “How-”

“Been seeing and hearing things all my life, things other people can’t see,” Chandra shrugged, as she squared her shoulders and returned Hecate’s probing gaze. “So obviously not so impossible after all.”

Dimity stifled a laugh at the look on Hecate’s face, like a bull frog interrupted mid-croak. She exchanged a look with Mildred, who was also struggling to stop herself laughing, as Hecate opened and closed her mouth a few times without speaking. Chandra glanced away from the two newcomers and winked at Dimity as she turned away, making the other witch blush.

“While I find this discovery both startling and fascinating, we have only a limited amount of time before the potion wears off and Mildred falls asleep again,” Ada said, breaking the tense silence like a plate. She turned to the young witch and sat beside her on the bed, even as Chandra swung back, her face abruptly concerned and angered.

“What potion!?”

“Dimity,” Hecate sighed, gesturing to the younger witch. “Explain, while we talk with Mildred.”

Dimity nodded, guiding Chandra to the other side of the room. “Sorry about Miss Hardbroom. Manners aren’t her strong point, especially when surprised by something,” she said quietly. “Mildred’s alright. The potion won’t harm her, just…soon she’ll drift off back into a…coma, and sleep until her magical energy has replenished itself.”

“Like a battery charging, I see,” Chandra nodded, sighing. “Have they come to take Mildred away?”

“I guess so. The Great Wizard must have approved their request,” Dimity replied. Seeing the look on Chandra’s face, she hurriedly added, “Kind of our leader. Don’t worry, I’ll catch you up on it all later.”

“I’m counting on that, Miss Drill,” Chandra smiled as she turned back to watch the two witches clustered around Mildred on the bed. Dimity was glad she wasn’t looking at her, she was fairly certain she was as red as a tomato by now. She was saved by Ada’s gentle call.

“Dimity?”

“Yes, Headmistress?” she said, stepping away from Chandra.

“Could I trouble you to go to the Hubble flat and pick up Tabby, and some of Mildred’s things? We’ll be along soon,” Ada asked, glancing at the young doctor with a twinkle in her eye. Dimity nodded.

Just before she transferred away, she felt the crinkle of paper as it was stuffed into a pocket of her robes. Stunned, she glanced at Chandra as the other woman smirked mischievously. “Call me for that catch-up, Miss Drill. And coffee.”

“Y-yeah…sure,” Dimity managed, just before she escaped into the nothingness of transference.

An awkward silence fell in the wake of Dimity’s departure, as Mildred just smiled at Chandra. Ada just shook her head in mock-despair, while Hecate seemingly found the weave of Mildred’s hospital blanket more interesting to peruse than Chandra. “Nice one, Doctor Nandi,” Mildred said.

“Yes, well. Perhaps Doctor Nandi could tell us what paperwork we require to claim guardianship of Mildred?” Hecate asked, after clearing her throat, watching the younger woman suspiciously.

“If you’re going to masquerade as Great-Aunt Amelia and Cousin Harriet, which I assume you are,” Chandra said, thoughtfully. “I’d imagine proof of identity, like a passport, driving licence. Proof of address, proof of relationship. It’s not simple.”

Ada waved her hand dismissively. “The paperwork won’t be a problem,” she stated, before closing her eyes and focusing for a moment. When she opened her eyes, a sheaf of papers appeared in a flare of light in her hand. Chandra tried not to stare, eyes growing bigger by the moment regardless.

“And I imagine…you’re going to want to look less like you’ve just stepped off the set of Harry Potter,” she offered, looking pointedly at Hecate. “You’re alright, Miss Cackle, but the female Severus Snape cosplay going on over there….”

Hecate rolled her eyes. With a flick of her fingers, she cast a Glamour spell, replacing her stiff black dress with more Ordinary attire. “Better?” she asked acerbically, as Chandra stared. Mildred stared too, surprised by the change. Instead of the black dress, Hecate now appeared to be dressed in dark jeans, a purple blouse and a long black coat. Her tight bun was softened to a plait, trailing down her neck and onto her breast. It made the stark planes of her face seem less stone-like, less like they had been cut by diamond. She looked rather pretty, Mildred thought.

“It’ll do,” Chandra managed, ignoring the quelling glare from the Potions Mistress. “Give me all that, and I’ll go call Miss Cartwright.” Taking the forged paperwork from Miss Cackle, she shot a small smile at Mildred and left the three witches alone.

* * *

 

Within half an hour, both Miss Cartwright and her manager had arrived at the hospital. Unlike Miss Cartwright, Gillian Cross was a no-nonsense, sensible woman in an iron-grey suit, and she waved away the former’s protests and concerns irritably as Miss Cackle and Miss Hardbroom weaved a plausible story, laced with hints of a befuddlement spell to ease their way. It didn’t really break the Code, Hecate assured herself, since they were only doing it to protect Mildred and not for personal gain or harm. There was paperwork to sign, of course, and Ada assumed guardianship of Mildred with a few flicks of Miss Cross’ pen, and a few words of advice for grief counselling, domiciliary inspections in the future to check on Mildred’s welfare and the like. The whole time, Hecate made sure to hover protectively beside Mildred, keeping her body between the girl and Miss Cartwright, preventing the irritating woman from reaching out and touching the girl, glaring at her if she so much as twitched. It was strangely satisfying to see the woman’s squat face whiten every time she caught Hecate’s glacial stare.

Despite Miss Cartwright’s most stringent protests, the social worker had no choice but to let them take her, in the end. Hecate watched her face with interest, noting how it had turned from sour and cold to something almost approaching fear, with the approximate colour of curdled milk. With a tug of her arm, she was spirited out the door by Miss Cross, as Chandra smiled and sighed in relief. “Thank goodness for that,” she breathed, turning back to Mildred as her pager went off. “Sorry, I’ll have to go. I just wanted to say…good luck, Mildred.”

Impulsively, Mildred leant forward and hugged the doctor tightly. She patted her back a few times, before leaving them all with a nod of farewell. As the door closed behind her, Mildred swayed and nearly fell off the bed, Hecate catching her instinctively. “The potion’s wearing off,” she told Ada. “Mildred?”

“I’m…ok. Just sleepy,” she murmured against Hecate’s shoulder.

“Go to sleep, my dear. When you wake up, you’ll be back at school,“ Ada told her reassuringly, before she nodded at Hecate, as the woman cast off the Glamour spell, reverting to her previous appearance, while she checked the bedside cupboard for Mildred’s clothes. Her jeans and trainers were gone, burned in the explosion, but her hooded yellow jacket and t-shirt were still there. With a flick of her wrist, Ada re-materialised the jacket around Mildred, the girl slipping further into unconsciousness as the minutes passed.

Hecate’s eyes fell to the bandages on the girl’s legs. “I’ll have to fix those back at the Academy,” she said quietly, glancing at Ada. The older witch nodded, helping Hecate readjust her hold on Mildred until she lay draped across her lap and torso. With a flick of her fingers, Ada transferred them all back to the school.

They re-materialised in Mildred’s bedroom, where Hecate cast a spell to change Mildred into her school pyjamas, and gently tucked her into bed. Across the room, Tabby meowed urgently, jumping off Mildred’s dresser and leaping on his mistress’s lap. Behind them, Miss Bat, Mr Rowan-Webb and Miss Drill all waited and watched, eyes soft and pitying as they looked down at the little girl now fast asleep in her bed. Hecate stayed sitting beside her, hand smoothing over the counterpane under Mildred’s chin.

“Right,” Ada began, her eyes on the dark smudges under Hecate’s eyes as she twisted her body to look up at the Headmistress. “Until Mildred’s energy has replenished itself, there is little more to do here. Mr Rowan-Webb, if I could trouble you to sit with her for a while? Miss Bat will relieve you later. As for you two, Hecate and Dimity, to bed. Especially you, Miss Hardbroom,” she said pointedly, cutting off Hecate’s protests with a raised hand. “You’ve been up since this time yesterday, without the benefit of a Wide Awake Potion. To bed with you. I’ll summon you if there’s any need.”

With a mulish frown, Hecate did as she was told, transferring away with a low grumble. Dimity shook her head, smirking to herself, before glancing at her Headmistress worriedly. “What about you, Headmistress? You’ve not had much more sleep than the rest of us.”

“I’ll grab a few hours in a little while. But first, I have some calls to make,” Ada replied, dismissing her with a gentle smile. Dimity returned it, before transferring away to her bed.

With a smile for Mr Rowan-Webb as he conjured a comfy armchair with which to start his watch, she transferred to her office. With a deep breath, she turned towards the mirror on the wall over the fireplace. She had a few calls to make, if she wanted to prove the theory that she was growing ever more certain was correct. “Call Mr and Mrs Spellbody…”

* * *

 

_To be continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise answers are coming, specifically in the next chapter. And yes, to answer several people's question Miss Cartwright was somewhat inspired by Umbridge. Might have something to do with the fact Order of the Phoenix was playing in the background when I wrote Chapter Four. And it's not quite the last we've seen of her, or Doctor Chandra Nandi....


	5. You And Me Both

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The watch begins. Ada shares her theory and Hecate has a crisis of the spirit. Tabby adopts Hecate.

Over the course of the next week, the teachers took it in turns to sit with Mildred as she lay asleep. Ada and Hecate all but moved their offices into the girl’s room, so they could still work and prepare for the new term. When they were called away to attend to some errand or other, Miss Bat would sit in with her knitting, or Miss Drill would sit and tend to the school broomsticks beside Mildred’s bed. Tabby never left his mistress’s side for longer than it took to take a bathroom break; spending most of his day lying curled up and nestled into Mildred’s side, purring softly.

Outside Mildred’s bedroom, the world spun on. Ada was forced to intercede several times to keep the Ordinary authorities off their backs, including arranging the Hubble family’s funeral. She tried to keep it as simple as possible, not knowing Julie Hubble well enough to know what she might have wanted, let alone Mildred‘s aunt and grandmother. If she’d been a witch, it would have been simple enough: a blessing for safe passage into the next world and a magical rite to mark the passing of a generation. But Julie Hubble, her sister and her mother had been denied their birthright, and only Mildred could perform the Rite of Passing. She didn’t know if the girl would have the strength to do so until she woke up.

Hecate had healed the burns on Mildred’s lower legs easily enough, but hadn’t been successful in using magic to heal Mildred’s exhaustion. She cast diagnostic spells three times a day to check on her progress, but it was slow going. Either it meant that Mildred possessed only a small reserve of magical power, and using it had nearly drained her dry, an option Hecate would have once bet her broomstick was the case; or there was so much that needed to be recharged, more than any of them had ever suspected, that the girl literally could not function safely until her magic had returned to an acceptable level. The more powerful the witch, the longer the process could take. For most third years, it only took a good nights’ sleep. For a full-grown witch, it might take three days…a week was a new record, one Hecate had no intention of reporting.

* * *

 

It was a balmy June afternoon when Dimity arrived to take over the watch from Miss Hardbroom. She was expecting a lecture; she’d been having coffee with Chandra and the time had all but disappeared. Thus, she was late and there was nothing HB hated more than tardiness.

As expected, Hecate was sitting in the squashy armchair Mr Rowan-Webb had first conjured there a week ago, looking through a large pile of marking. To Dimity’s slight surprise, Tabby seemed to have temporarily deserted his mistress’s side for Hecate’s lap, purring loudly as the witch ran her long fingernails across the cat’s back.

“Well, if Tabby’s purring doesn’t wake Mildred up, nothing will,” she quipped, lightly. To her surprise, Hecate didn’t even stiffen, just kept stroking Tabby’s back meditatively as she drew a line through some hapless student’s essay conclusion.

“I was wondering when you’d return from your coffee date,” she replied, one corner of her mouth quirking upwards as Dimity felt herself blush. “You do look flushed, Dimity. _**Hot** _ out there, is it?”

Dimity stared. Was Hecate… _ **teasing** _ her? “It was just coffee. Chandra had questions only a witch could answer,” she replied, repressively.

“Exactly as I said,” Hecate said, still not taking her eyes off her marking. Dimity flushed an even brighter shade of scarlet. “The witch doth protest too much, methinks…”

“I’m not sure which I’d prefer: the teasing or the lecture,” Dimity grumbled, smiling despite herself as she conjured a chair and the latest issue of _Witch Ball Weekly_. “You can go now. I’ll take over, if you like.”

“Thank you, but no,” Hecate said, quietly. “I’m quite comfortable up here.”

“Hmmm, yes. Tabby seems to have adopted you,” Dimity pointed out, sensing her own chance for a little payback. “Hope Morgana doesn’t get _**too** _ jealous when you go back to your rooms covered in tabby hair.”

Hecate rolled her eyes, but Dimity could have sworn she saw a slight tinge of colour in the witch’s pale cheeks. “As ever, your juvenile attempts to rile me fall short of the mark, Dimity.”

Dimity chuckled to herself, shaking her head as she flicked her magazine open. As she did, her eyes fell on the sleeping figure beside them. Her mirth faded a little, as she asked, “There’s been no change?”

“None, evidently,” Hecate drawled. “Looks like the coffee wasn’t the only thing _**hot** _ about your date if you can miss the obvious…”

“Ok, enough with all the ‘ _ **hot date**_ ’ jokes already,” Dimity muttered. “Who knew the implacable Miss Hardbroom, scourge of rowdy students and hapless wizards alike, had a sense of humour?!”

“I was merely making an observation about the weather,” Hecate replied, with an innocently severe expression, but there was a twinkle of mischief in her eye that frankly astounded Dimity.

“Course you were. Miss Pentangle is a bad influence on you,” Dimity retorted good-naturedly, slightly bemused by Hecate’s relatively good mood. Since they’d retrieved Mildred from the hospital, she’d been pensive and brooding, hovering over the girl like an overgrown mother bat. The only reason Dimity could see for her sudden good mood was that Miss Pentangle must have mirrored. It was a badly kept secret that Miss Pentangle and Miss Hardbroom were once again on friendly terms, although it was clear to everyone but Miss Hardbroom that the potential for more was there too. Mr Rowan-Webb had started a private betting pool on how long it would take Hecate to get a clue - Dimity had put in for another thirty years, at least. Only Ada had opted for less than a decade, with that soft, knowing smile of hers. “Either that or someone’s slipped you another Personality-Changing Potion…” she muttered to herself.

Hecate glanced up. “What?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Dimity said evasively, looking back down at her magazine.

They slipped into what was, for them, a companionable silence. To Dimity’s lessening surprise, she glimpsed the other witch periodically glancing at Mildred, as if expecting the girl to stir at any moment. The woman truly was an enigma to Dimity; for months after Mildred had first started at Cackles, the slightest infraction was enough for Hecate to start calling for her expulsion, while the likes of Ethel Hallow broke the Code time and again without any punishment worse than a detention. Dimity couldn’t pinpoint when that slowly began to change, mostly at a snail’s pace, but it had regardless. She rather suspected it had started after the Spelling Bee, after Mildred showed she was more capable than anyone had suspected, and now she wondered if Mildred had also had something to do with HB and Miss Pentangle’s reconciliation. Dimity could still recall the look on HB’s face on so many occasions after that, when Mildred had done something dangerous, or reckless, or they’d believed her lost; each time, there’d been no triumph, no gloating smugness at being proved right. No, she’d seen only exasperation, fear, disappointment or sorrow in Hecate’s face whenever she looked on Mildred Hubble after the Spelling Bee. At least when the girl was looking, or the stern Deputy Headmistress knew others were watching her. When she was unwatched, however…

Dimity shook her head to herself, letting out a sigh. Feeling Hecate’s swift glance, she shrugged and said lightly, “The Hounslow Hags lost 3-6 to the Cricklewood Crones in the Witch Ball League. _**Again**_.”

Hecate rolled her eyes and quickly looked back to her marking. Talking about sports was always an easy way to get the Potions Mistress to switch off. Dimity hid a smile, and let herself sink into memories of her pleasant coffee date-that-wasn’t-a-date-no-matter-what-HB-thought. Chandra was so funny and so quick, with a deprecating wit that had Dimity in stitches every time. She’d told her what she had described HB’s usual attire as, and Dimity hadn’t rested until Chandra showed her a Youtube clip on her phone. She was never going to be able to get that image out of her head now.

Chandra had asked her all sorts of questions about magic too. She’d been denied any kind of answers about who and what she was, and she was hungry for them now. Now Dimity knew what to look for, she could sense her magic: it was weak, like a muscle that had never been exercised, but there was a potency in there that reminded Dimity a little of HB. After she’d got over the shock, she felt nothing but sympathy for the young doctor and the world she’d been denied but was her birthright.

 

Dimity was drawn from her reverie at the sound of a small sigh and a sleepy mumble. Her head shot up, the magazine dropping to the floor as Hecate jolted upright. Tabby shot from her lap and leapt back to his mistress’s side. With a twist of her fingers, Hecate transferred her marking away, going to her knees beside Mildred’s bedside, one hand extended to the girl’s face. “Mildred?” she called softly. The girl mumbled again as a small frown appeared on her temples, but just as quickly melted away and she didn’t stir again. Silently, Hecate cast the diagnostic spell, her hand splayed over Mildred’s body. She let out a tremulous breath, worry growing in her eyes.

“Well?” Dimity asked, nervously.

“It won’t be long before she awakens. Inform the Headmistress,” Hecate replied, brusquely. She didn’t move from Mildred’s side, and Dimity wisely decided to simply go and not make any potentially unwelcome comments about the woman’s steadfastness. Not to mention how dusty her skirt was going to be when she finally got off that floor…

* * *

 

When Ada materialised in Mildred’s bedroom, Hecate had moved back to her comfortable armchair, but she sat with her eyes fixed on Mildred’s sleeping form, a small, thoughtful furrow at her forehead. “Dimity told me the news. I was beginning to worry,” she said gently, quietly announcing her presence.

Hecate pursed her lips then sighed. “How has it come to this, Ada?” she asked quietly.

“Not regretting your plan to bring Mildred to the Academy already, Hecate?” Ada probed, as she sat down in Dimity’s abandoned chair.

“No…no, of course not,” Hecate replied firmly, with a quelling glance in her Headmistress’s direction. “It’s just…how are we going to do this, Ada? The girl has lost so much…how can we possibly heal such a wound?”

“By being there for her, in whatever capacity she wants us to be. Or, as I rather suspect, in whatever capacity she wants _**you**_ ,” the older witch observed, as Hecate spun to face her, eyes wide with shock. Ada simply smiled gently, affectionately exasperated. “Hecate, you can’t be so blind as to not see the way the girl clung to you when we woke her up in the hospital? Whether you wish to see it or not, you and Mildred have had something of a…bond ever since she first crash-landed in the school pond. Once you stopped trying to get the girl expelled over every little infraction, that bond only grew stronger.”

“Ada…” Hecate breathed, shaking her head.

“My dearest Hecate, for being one of the most powerful witches I have ever met, you can be rigidly myopic when it comes to your own heart. I think you reacted so strongly to the girl because you saw yourself in her, but without the benefit of your background. You saw yourself, and the danger you might have posed, if you hadn’t been born into a witching family,” Ada continued doggedly. When Hecate didn’t try to interrupt again, her face distant and troubled, she took a deep breath and said, “Which is why I am almost certain I know why you felt the girl’s pain and distress so strongly.”

Hecate’s eyes snapped back up to her own, holding them intensely. “You said you had theories?”

“Just the one. To prove it, I contacted Maud Spellbody, Enid Nightshade, the Hallow girls, Felicity Foxglove and Drusilla Paddock,” she explained, as Hecate’s frown deepened with every word. “I couldn’t get a hold of Miss Mould, but it’s no matter. Since she lost her magic, she might not have felt anything anyway.”

“You suspected a coven bond?” Hecate asked, curiously. “But I have no coven bond to Mildred and that was before Miss Mould’s time.”

“I’m getting there, Hecate,” Ada held up a hand, a patient smile on her wizened features. Hecate sat back with a distinctly impatient grumble. “After speaking with the girls, I found that Miss Nightshade, Miss Spellbody, Miss Foxglove and the three Hallow girls all experienced a severe headache at the same time you also experienced pain. Drusilla Paddock had not.”

“So not a coven bond, if Drusilla felt no pain but Sybil and Esmeralda did,” Hecate mused. Ada inclined her head.

“Indeed. I also felt some pain, if you recall, though not at the same intensity as you. And from what the girls have said, they registered a mild headache, not the agonising migraine you experienced,” Ada continued. “Now, what links you with the Hallow sisters, myself, Miss Foxglove, Miss Nightshade and Miss Spellbody?”

Hecate’s frown deepened for a moment, but Ada wasn’t to be disappointed. The woman had always been quick on the uptake, after all. “The ice. We were all frozen by the ice and…”

“And it was Mildred’s magic that thawed us, before Miss Mould took her place,” Ada finished for her. “I believe, and it is _**just** _ a theory mind you, that an echo of Mildred’s magic remained, both in the school and in every one of us affected by the ice, enough to create a kind of bond. The combination of being on the school premises and bonded to Mildred allowed us to feel her distress most strongly during the accident.”

“A logical theory,” Hecate conceded. “But then why did I, out of everyone, feel it most intensely when Mildred…when the accident occurred? Why not you, or her friends? And why could I sense where she was in the hospital? Why can I sense her still?”

“Well, I was just coming to that,” Ada replied, with a fond glance at the sleeping Mildred. “Magical bonds are rarely one way, Hecate. Although I doubt she’s anymore aware of it than we were, since the bond lay dormant until the circumstances of the accident awakened it, I believe Mildred’s magic subconsciously reached out to the one person she was bound to whom she trusted implicitly to protect her. You.”

Hecate looked away, down at her hands, as she swallowed back whatever reply she’d had, at the calm certainty in Ada’s eyes. “You can’t be sure of that…” she whispered. Ada covered the younger witch’s hands with her own, squeezing comfortingly.

“I am as sure as I can be, Hecate. Mildred’s magic reached out and sought its like to call for aid, for protection. Magical like seeking magical like. It’s not as unlikely as you seem to imagine, Hecate. You have always stood as a protector to the girls, and you can’t deny that you and Mildred have shared a connection since the moment you met,” she told her, gently as she patted her hands. “Now, go take a break. I will summon you if Mildred shows any further sign of awakening.”

Hecate didn’t argue as she stood from her chair, her eyes gazing down at Mildred, their dark depths troubled and haunted. Ada felt only great sorrow at the uncertainty in Hecate’s usually stoic face as she twisted her fingers and transferred away. She met the unblinking, wise gaze of Tabby as he lay on Mildred’s lap, his tail flicking lazily from side to side.

“What am I going to do with them?” she asked the cat, chuckling as he gave a very unimpressed ‘ _Meow_ ’. “Quite right. This is something they’ll have to figure out for themselves.”

* * *

 

Hecate tried to ignore the way her hands were shaking as she unsteadily lowered herself into the armchair in her rooms. Her mind was whirling, racing from one thing to another, unable to settle as Ada’s words reverberated in her head. She could feel a headache starting, this one distinctly non-Hubble related. Or was it…?

With a sigh, Hecate snapped her fingers and let her hair tumble down from its carefully coiled braid, until it fell riotously around her shoulders. Eying the chaotic spirals of her hair with distaste, Hecate nevertheless felt some relief as the tension on her scalp was released. She let herself relax back into the armchair, pressing her head back into the cushion and closing her eyes. Nevertheless, there was no escape from the memory of Ada’s little speech, everything she said running through Hecate’s head as if stuck on a loop. Taking a deep breath, she tried to push all that aside in favour of looking deep inside herself, searching for that little string of magic that bound her to Mildred.

Sure enough, it was still there. Thin, delicate and golden in her mind, but growing ever more solid with every passing moment. She’d thought it might lapse back into dormancy once Mildred was safe, but it didn’t seem as though it had any intention of dissipating any time soon. Hecate tried to recall everything she’d ever read about coven bonds, blood bonds and magical bonds, but nowhere in her admittedly eidetic memory could she recall ever reading anything about bonds forged in the wake of reigniting a Founding Stone. As for everything else Ada had said…she couldn’t deny they had some validity. She’d certainly never been indifferent to the girl.

Once upon a time, she’d have sworn that Mildred Hubble was every fear Hecate had ever harboured about the future of the Craft made flesh and blood. The girl had been clumsy, lacklustre, unfocussed, scatter-brained and woefully ignorant of much to do with Witchcraft. But what she’d lacked in knowledge, she’d made up for in tenacity; what she had been deprived of in grace, she’d possessed in spades of bravery and resourcefulness. After the Spelling Bee, after Mildred had successfully cast the Weather Spell, Hecate had been forced to re-evaluate her view of the girl. She could admit that she hadn’t been a very good teacher towards Mildred, all too focussed on getting rid of her to truly be the supportive mentor the girl needed, and yet even after her dismissive cruelty, even after enduring being shoved aside and ignored, Mildred had not only proven her wrong but had the heart to give something back to her teacher that Hecate had never believed possible. She’d reunited her with her Pipsqueak, and opened the door to rediscovering a friendship that she had never admitted to herself she’d missed with all her heart. After the Spelling Bee, she’d tried to be less harsh, more understanding of Mildred’s shortcomings where perhaps her own nature would have prompted her to be otherwise. She’d felt true disappointment when she had been forced to expel the girl for leaving the grounds without permission, although even that had been a blessing in disguise. They might never have defeated Agatha if Mildred had been in the dark witch’s immediate reach once she took over the school. She’d have ended up like Ada, or worse.

Hecate startled slightly, forced out of her thoughts, by the soft weight of Morgana as her familiar leapt into her lap. Carding her nails through the cat’s fur, she waited for her to object to the scent of Tabby that must linger on her clothes, but the cat did no such thing. She simply nestled further into her mistress’s lap with a rumbling _purr_. Hecate huffed a quiet laugh. _‘Out of all the familiars in the school, it would have to be Mildred Hubble’s Tabby that Morgana objects to the least…’_ Even Pendle could get on Morgana’s nerves, eventually. Usually the scent of another familiar was enough to send Morgana into a sulk, but not Tabby. But then…she hadn’t disappeared in a huff when Hecate had returned from giving Tabby back to Mildred after the Spelling Bee. Perhaps she had smelled a kindred spirit like herself… Tabby the cat scared of mice, and Morgana the former runt of the litter. The odd ones out…

Hecate’s smile turned sad as she recalled how Mildred had stood before her and Pippa, and boldly announced she was staying at Cackles. Once Pippa had told her of her offer, she’d been sure the girl would jump at the chance to escape to a school where her differences would be celebrated, not censured. _‘I like being the odd one out…’_

“You and me both, Mildred Hubble,” Hecate breathed, feeling an odd sense of acceptance unfurl inside her at the memory. “You and me both.”

Then panic bloomed. What in the Goddess’s name was she supposed to do? She wasn’t equipped to help a grieving child, not really…

She needed someone to talk to, her own head wasn’t helping. Someone who wasn’t Ada, confound that knowing glint in her eyes. There was only one other person on Earth she felt comfortable discussing it with. Pippa.

Summoning her mirror to hand, Hecate took a deep breath before saying clearly “Call Pippa Pentangle.”

The witch answered after barely twenty seconds. She must have had her mirror on her. “Hecate! I wasn’t sure when you’d have time to call again after yesterday. How’s Mildred?” she asked, with a breathless smile, before her eyes widened teasingly. “Great Merlin, Hiccup! I haven’t seen your hair down in decades!”

“Don’t start,” Hecate rolled her eyes, the teasing letting her relax into familiar patterns for a moment. “And to answer your question, still asleep,” she continued. “Although, I suspect it shan’t be long before she awakens. Which is what I wanted to speak to you about.”

Pippa paused, waiting as Hecate struggled to gather her thoughts. “Hiccup, what is it?” she asked, gently.

“I…don’t know how to do this, Pip,” Hecate admitted, quietly. Quickly, she explained everything that Ada had in her theory, watching as the other witch’s eyes grew wider and wider. “As you can see, I’m currently like a witch in a desert without a broomstick. How can I do this, Pippa? How do I be what she needs?”

Pippa sighed. “Oh, Hecate. After all these years, you are still so blind to yourself,” she said quietly. “You’re already everything Mildred needs. Your strength, your understanding. If what Ada says is true, she already looks to you.”

“Ada may be mistaken,” Hecate retorted, although without true heat in her voice. “Miss Mould would be a better choice, if she were still here. She understood who Mildred is as a person better than I ever could hope to.”

“Do you really believe that, Hecate Hardbroom?” Pippa replied, with a knowing, saddened look. “Miss Mould might have encouraged the girl’s strengths, that’s true, but Mildred has never needed encouragement for those. Her bravery, compassion and warmth are an intrinsic part of her. It’s her weaknesses that need training, and you are uniquely well-equipped for that. You’re one of the most powerful witches I have ever known, and it marked you out for years when we were children. You just need to be a little…gentler with her than you think you need to be. After all, for all your similarities, she isn’t you and you are _**not** _ Mistress Broomhead.”

Hecate glanced down at her hands, uncomfortable at Pippa’s mention of their past. Her apprenticeship under Mistress Broomhead had taught her much, prepared her well, but the memories had left their own indelible mark. But Pippa was right: powerful and tenacious she might be, but Mildred wasn’t a carbon copy of her younger self. In many ways, she was surer of herself, more comfortable in her own identity despite how it made her stand out. Where Hecate had built walls and pushed those she loved away, Mildred only opened her heart and pulled everyone close. And Hecate…hoped she wasn’t her old mentor. Hoped that, while taxing and demanding, she never tipped over into pure cruelty in the name of perfection. Hecate’s eyes clamped shut, forcing back tears.

“Oh, Hiccup…”

“Help me, Pipsqueak?” Hecate forced out, before her better judgement could stop her. When she opened her eyes, Pippa was looking surprised but pleased.

“How?” she asked. “I’ll do everything I can.”

“How soon can you get away, and for how long?” Hecate asked, knowing how desperate she sounded but couldn’t find it in herself to care. Pippa pursed her lips, clearly thinking hard.

“I’ll need to arrange things with my deputy, Miss Ravenwing, but…all being well, I’ll be able to come in a week. Then, as long as I’m back the week before term starts…”

“Thank you, Pipsqueak,” Hecate breathed, sincere gratitude in her eyes as the other witch smiled at her through the mirror.  
“Any time, any place. You know that, Hiccup,” she smiled gently, but firmly. Her words had the ring of a vow to them.

Hecate smiled back. “I do, Pipsqueak. I do.”

* * *

 

 _To be continued..._  

 


	6. Here For You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mildred wakes up and struggles to come to terms with the accident. Hecate struggles to overcome her own demons to help Mildred.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was tricky to write. I'm lucky enough that I haven't gone through the loss of a parent yet, so I had to draw from my limited experience of losing my grandparents (who I wasn't especially close to) and my dog to even imagine what Millie must be going through, and my research into grief and bereavement in teenagers. I hope this does some small amount of justice.

Mildred’s return to the land of the living was more sudden and abrupt than she usually liked. It reminded her of early morning fire drills and witching hour lectures by Miss Hardbroom after one of Enid’s pranks. She really didn’t want to wake up, but it was like there was a rope tied around her waist, tugging her upwards against her will until she surfaced, blinking at the bright sunshine streaming through the casement of her bedroom window. Outside, towering oak trees were billowing in the wind… _‘oak trees?’_

Mildred couldn’t see any trees from her bedroom window, just more of the council estate, and beyond, the town of Cackleston where she’d been born. She blinked again, frowning up at the ceiling instead, expecting to see plain white paint. Instead she saw peeling paint, dark beams and a familiar cobweb suspended in one corner of the octagonal-shaped ceiling. _‘My bedroom at school…what am I doing here?’_

She tried to sit up, groaning as her muscles immediately protested the move, limp as a jellyfish out of water. She heard a sharp gasp and a _creaking_ sound, turning her head as Mr Rowan-Webb came into view. “Well, good morning there Tadpole! Or I should say afternoon,” he chuckled, except there was a falsity to his cheerfulness Mildred didn’t like. “You were asleep so long I thought I was going to have to go out and find a prince! How are you feeling, tadpole?”

“I’m…ok, I think. Why am I so sore…?” she asked, as Mr Rowan-Webb leant in to help her sit up, rearranging the pillows behind her back.

“Oh, it’s quite common after waking up from a restoring sleep,” he explained, comfortingly. “You used a lot of magical energy in a small space of time. Takes a while to replenish itself. It’ll pass in a day or two.”

“But…why? What did I do…?” Mildred asked. Mr Rowan-Webb sighed, his brow crinkling into a sharp frown under his wiry mass of hair. There was something niggling away at her, tugging at her attention. She frowned, trying to remember. “We were on the bus…with Granny and Auntie Mo…”

“Oh dear. I’ll just summon Miss Cackle and Miss Hardbroom,” Mr Rowan-Webb interjected hurriedly, turning to yell those very same names over his shoulder. Mildred felt a sense of panic rise, as memories rose like a wave of water to overwhelm her. _The bus…Mum_ … _heat and fire and a burning pain across her lower legs_ … _the hospital_ …a strange feeling of static spreading across her skin, intensifying in her fingertips…voices calling her name…a feeling of heat building up beneath her skin, swelling in her eyes, as her heart began to pound…

Hecate transferred from her rooms at Mr Rowan-Webb’s call, her eyes widening as the static electricity in the air immediately made every single hair not tied back into a rigidly braided bun stand up, raw power crackling over every centimetre of exposed skin, throbbing in time with the panicked breathing of the girl apparently on the verge of a full-blown panic attack. “Mildred,” she breathed, crossing the room in a single stride to reach the girl’s side. With a flick of her head, she gestured the wizard to stand back as she felt the crackle of transference behind her. With a snap of her fingers, she conjured a protective shield around herself and Mildred, sealing them in so no errant magic would escape. Slowly, Hecate sank to her knees and took the girl’s hands in her own, clasping them tightly as she met and held Mildred’s eye, gazing intently into her tear-stained, pale face. “Mildred,” she called, soothingly, hiding a wince at the feeling of raw magic sparking against her skin where she held the girl’s hands.

The feeling of cold hands cupping her own shocked Mildred out of her panicked daze, her eyes snapping up to meet ones so like her own, dark and cold, yet Mildred found some unexpected comfort in them. Black-tipped fingers held her own tightly, while that familiar icy gaze held hers almost hypnotically. Funny, how something that had once made her freeze like a deer in headlights could now be so comforting. “Mildred, I want you to look at me. Don’t take your eyes off me,” the woman was saying, her voice slow and quiet. “Try to match your breath to mine. That’s it…good girl…nice and slow. Don’t look away, don’t stop breathing.”

Although the memories didn’t fade, the excruciating feeling of static in her fingertips did, as Mildred’s breathing slowed and evened out. She blocked any thought bar the need to keep eye contact and to match the slow, measured breathing of the witch knelt beside her bed, hands still tight around her own.

Hecate breathed a sigh of relief as she felt the girl’s magic soften, no longer crackling over her skin like barely contained lightning, then ease back altogether, returning to a comfortable level. She dropped the shielding spell, still holding tightly to Mildred’s hands, even as she glanced over her shoulder at Ada and Dimity, the latter having transferred in when she felt Mildred’s rising magic. Her head snapped back to stare at Mildred as the girl snorted and hiccupped shakily. “Trust me to get my first bit of praise from Miss Hardbroom when I’m having a panic attack,” Mildred said quietly, as Ada chuckled. Hecate cleared her throat; slowly dropping the girl’s hands as she moved back to sit at the foot of the bed. “Thanks, Miss Hardbroom,” the girl added, sincerely. Hecate inclined her head as Ada conjured a chair so she could sit beside Mildred.

“Now, Mildred,” Ada began, but stopped, unsure how to go on. She’d rehearsed what she would say when Mildred woke up a hundred times in her head, but now the moment had come, she wasn’t sure what to say. She glanced at Hecate, but the younger witch looked just as lost and uncertain as she was. She was spared the painful necessity of starting again by Mildred.

“It’s ok, Miss Cackle. I remember…everything,” she admitted, looking down at her hands. Ada reached out, patting her shoulder in an attempt to comfort but feeling as though she failed miserably.

“Then you’ll remember what happened at the hospital. We’ve handled the authorities, and you’re safe now,” she told the quiet, motionless girl. Now her panic attack had subsided, she was preternaturally still, avoiding everyone’s eyes, staring at her fingers twining in the sheets of her bed. “I don’t want you to do anything now except rest and heal from your ordeal. We can deal with the rest then.”

Mildred nodded. Ada watched the girl closely; waiting for something, some other reaction but there was none. “Is there anything you’d like?” she asked, gently. Mildred finally raised her head, her eyes latching onto Ada’s as the older witch’s breath hitched at the sight of them. They were heavy with tears but there was something stopping them from falling, some wall that Mildred held in place with the same tenacity she’d always approached every obstacle in her life with.

When she spoke, her voice was devoid of life. “I’d like my mother back. But if I can’t have that, then I’d like to be alone now please.”

Hecate watched the young witch, her heart breaking. That spark of life and mischief that had always sparkled in her eyes was gone, extinguished as surely as if someone had blown it out. She noted her breathing was extremely precise, slow and measured, just as Hecate had coached her only moments prior. She was so still…too still, for Mildred Hubble, ball of clumsy energy that she was.

Ada sighed. “Very well, if that’s what you need Mildred,” she said quietly, with a nod at Mr Rowan-Webb and Dimity. Both of them transferred out of the room with sad looks at the young girl in her bed, while Ada and Hecate arose from their seats. “But know this, Mildred,” Ada continued, as the girl continued to look vacantly at the chair she’d just stood from. “We’re all here for you. All of us. Anything you need, at any time. Just call and we’ll be there.”

Mildred nodded, lying back down in her bed and staring up at the ceiling. “I’ll send Miss Tapioca up with some soup later,” Hecate added, for good measure. She was a growing girl and she had a good appetite. It would only grow while she was recovering from magical exhaustion. She would need her strength for what was to come. Hecate hoped the allusion to food might generate some interest, some inkling of life in the girl, but she was sorely disappointed.

“Thank you, Miss Hardbroom,” she whispered, quietly and very correctly, but her voice was as dead as before. Hecate shivered, exchanging a worried glance with Ada as the woman transferred away. Making a snap decision, Pippa’s words of advice ringing in her mind, Hecate cast an invisibility spell instead of transferring. It might be a violation of the girl’s wish for privacy, but she just didn’t feel right to leave her unattended. Not now, not while she was like this.

No, she would stay and watch over her until she fell asleep. Perhaps the girl unknowingly sensed her presence because when she did fall back asleep, she slept dreamlessly. The soup went untouched. Day turned into night, and still Hecate kept her watch over her young charge. It wasn’t until dawn the next day that she was forced to leave, transferring back to her rooms so she could snatch a few hours of rest herself, driven almost to exhaustion.

* * *

 

The next week followed in wary, watchful silence. Mildred barely spoke a word, despite the best efforts of the teaching staff. She was listless and apathetic, her wan little face showing almost no emotion. They did their best to try and help her; Dimity would often try and cajole the girl out to go flying with her, Miss Bat would play some of her old chanting records, Mr Rowan-Webb would try to convince her to visit the pond with him while Ada would do her best to coax the girl into eating and drinking. Nothing seemed to puncture that bubble the girl had erected around herself; nothing seemed to reach her, except at night.

After that first night, Mildred never managed a peaceful night’s sleep again. Hecate could hear her screams across the castle some nights, while others she merely sensed her muffled cries, overwhelming sorrow and rage tugging at the bond between them until she thought she might go mad with them. She did what she could, trying to meditate her way through Mildred’s nightmares and pushing every ounce of serenity and calm she possessed at the girl through the bond, but it seemed to have little effect and Hecate had barely any idea how their bond worked at all. She hated the notion of ‘feeling’ her way, but as her search in the library for any further mention of magical bonds and Founding Stones had been fruitless, ‘feeling’ her way was what she had been reduced to. She knew the girl was refusing to eat more than a bare minimum to please Ada, and the sensation of numbness emanating from her terrified Hecate, not least because she could also sense the veritable cauldron of volatile emotion buried deep underneath, quickly reaching boiling point.

She just didn’t know what to do. Emotions had never been her strength, not least in a young girl who had suffered a bereavement. She had been a grown woman when her parents passed, and their relationship had always been a chilly, distant one to start with, based upon academic achievement, familial legacy and pride. She didn’t know how to go about approaching Mildred: every time she considered it, tried to plan it out in her head, she would falter and return to the sanctuary of her invisibility spells to check on the girl.

She’d mentioned the difficulty in a mirror call to Pippa one afternoon, three days after they had retrieved Mildred from the hospital. “I just don’t know how to do this, Pip,” she sighed. “I want to help…but how do I approach her? You and Ada both seem so sure the girl will reach out to me if I offer, but how do I do that? Our relationship hasn’t been…the easiest up until now.”

“You’re right in that, Hiccup,” Pippa had replied, patiently. “You were a holy terror to Mildred for much of her first year, and you were only slightly gentler in her second. But from what you’ve told me, Mildred has already reached out to you. In the hospital, what did you do?”

Hecate had recalled the moment Mildred had all but flung herself into her arms, sobbing quietly, and the way she had initially frozen up. And the way she had slowly and carefully softened, taking the girl into her arms and holding her while she slept. “I-I didn’t really think about it,” she admitted, shakily.

Pippa smiled, with just a hint of exasperation. “Then maybe that’s your problem, Hecate. You’re thinking too much. Let your instincts guide you, for once.”

Hecate still wasn’t sure about that. Instinct went against every ingrained precept she had ever learned. It was all very well for Pippa; she had always worn her heart on her sleeve, even as a girl, proudly challenging any and all who would scorn her for it. Hecate had always done the exact opposite, controlling any and all emotion effortlessly, holding them in a grip of iron, and only allowing ones she deemed necessary and appropriate to show. Perhaps it was no wonder she struggled now to understand how to help Mildred: the girl was more like Pippa, always wearing her heart on her sleeve for all to see, always following instinct before rules and precedents. It had saved the school a number of times, Hecate recalled with a pang. As she sat in her office, watching as Ada and Mildred walked around the grounds below, an idea suddenly bloomed in her mind. Without letting herself stop to think, she turned away from the window and crossed to her mirror. Surely, this might help and she had a feeling Ada wouldn’t mind too much that she hadn’t consulted with her first. Not when it could help Mildred.

* * *

 

Exactly two weeks after she had been retrieved from the hospital, Mildred watched the sun as it rose over the horizon, painting the walls of her room pale gold. Restlessly, she turned over in her bed, avoiding the sunlight as it filled her room. It was still early, but that had stopped mattering to Mildred. It wasn’t like she could sleep anyway.

Since waking up, Mildred had existed in a miasma of apathy and numbness that she couldn’t seem to shake off, even if she’d wanted to. During the day, she struggled to just put one foot in front of the other while at night…at night; it felt like she was trapped in hell. Thoughts would chase themselves around her mind, torturous, repetitive, giving Mildred no reprieve. Words like: _what if_ … _I didn’t get to say goodbye_ … _I’m sorry, Mum, Granny, Auntie Mo_ … _what if_ … _I wasn’t good enough_ … _I could have saved them_ … _if I was a better witch_ …round and round they went, following her even into her nightmares. Dreams of fire and screaming, and her mother’s arm like a vice around her shoulders…a feeling of excruciating pressure, as if something was squeezing every inch of her body…the burning pain of the flames as they licked at her legs…and trying to push that pressure outward, trying to force her magic to cover not just her but her Mum too… _‘Please, please!’_ …the feeling of ice water in her veins, as if the very life had been drained out of her body with her magic, just like when she’d been frozen in the ice…then nothing until she woke up that first time in the hospital. Sometimes, she’d wake up and the fear, pain and rage would burn like the fire, burning her up from the inside out. Sometimes, she’d feel like someone was there with her in her grief, covering her in a blanket of serenity and calm, soothing her. She didn’t know why, but those moments reminded her of Miss Hardbroom. It was probably just her imagination, though.

The world seemed stripped of colour now. Everything bright and beautiful in it had disappeared with Julie Hubble, and it took everything Mildred had to keep putting one foot in front of the other. Even if she no longer really understood why she kept trying. Some days she didn’t, hiding under her blankets, ignoring the teachers’ attempts to coax her out, ignoring the trays of food left on her desk. Food tasted like ash, like nothing, and it wasn’t like she deserved it anyway. She only really ate because it hurt more to see the pained look on kindly Miss Cackle’s face when she refused, but that was the only reason she tried.

On her bed, Tabby stretched and yawned, showing his impressive set of fangs to the world. Mildred found herself envying the cat’s simple life. _‘Perhaps I should turn myself into a cat…probably just mess it up, like everything else…’_

Feeling as sluggish as ever, Mildred pushed her long hair out of her eyes. It was tangled and lank, in desperate need of a wash. She just shoved it aside, sighing when she heard a knock on her bedroom door. “Mildred?” Miss Hardbroom’s voice echoed from the other side, accompanied by a knock. “Are you up?”

Mildred felt tempted to simply hide under her blanket again and feign sleep, but while that might work on Miss Cackle or Miss Bat, it wouldn’t with HB. She hadn’t seen all that much of her form mistress since she woke up from her healing sleep, not that it surprised her. _‘Probably can’t stand to be around useless cry-babies who can’t even protect their loved ones…’_ a little voice in her head piped up, making the hollow space in Mildred’s chest ache a little. In a way she’d proved her form mistress right in the worst possible way. She had failed as a witch, and because of her, her family was gone. Memories of HB’s arms around her in the hospital attempted to pierce the fog permeating her mind, but Mildred swatted them aside. _’Just a fluke…’_ the nasty little voice in her head whispered. “I’m up,” she finally called back, without much enthusiasm. The door opened to reveal the austere Potions Mistress, clad in her usual black even in the sweltering summer heat, hair tightly bound as ever. Mildred envied her calmness, her control when she felt like she was dangerously close to losing what little she’d possessed in the first place.

The Potions Mistress looked oddly awkward, a soft look in her eyes as she gazed down at the little girl curled up on the bed, fingers absentmindedly curled in Tabby’s fur, staring at the wall. “Get dressed,” she ordered gently. “Meet me downstairs in the Entrance Hall. I have something for you.”

As the door closed, Mildred briefly contemplated ignoring the older witch and staying in bed. Something, some vestige of the old Mildred, was too used to jumping to it whenever Miss Hardbroom told her to something. Well, most of the time anyway. With a tired sigh, she climbed out of bed. She grabbed the first clean clothes that came to hand in her wardrobe, gingerly patting down her hair so she wouldn’t get reprimanded, but left the long tresses hanging free. Tabby watched her from his little nest on the bed, before leaping off and coming to her side. He wound his way around her legs before trotting smartly the door, meowing over his shoulder when she didn’t immediately follow. With a shrug, Mildred followed him and opened the door.

To her dimmed surprise, Miss Hardbroom was still waiting for her outside her door. A tinge of annoyance swept through Mildred at the sight of her, she might be a useless witch but she could manage to get to the Entrance Hall without someone holding her hand! “I don’t need a nanny,” she declared, before common sense could stop the words from leaving her mouth. She mentally flinched, peering up at the older witch and waiting for those stern features to contort with fury and disdain, and a reprimand to follow.

Instead, Miss Hardbroom just smirked wryly. “I’m glad to hear it. You are far too old for one,” she said, before turning round and walking off, Tabby following in her wake. Bemused, Mildred followed.

They had just reached the Entrance Hall when Miss Hardbroom stopped and turned to face Mildred, a serious look on her face. Mildred stopped and stared, unused to the uncertainty and awkwardness in her collected form mistress’s restless hands and pinched eyes. “Mildred,” she began, before stopping abruptly. Mildred would have braced for a lecture, but her voice was too soft, too… _kind_. Like the way she’d spoken to her in the hospital, like the way she’d told her it wasn’t her fault when she couldn’t get Miss Cackle out of that painting two years ago. Mildred held her breath as Miss Hardbroom raised a hand hesitantly, then reached out and gently cupped Mildred’s cheek, her fingers dipping into dishevelled dark hair. “I know I’m likely the last person you want to say this but…I want you to know if there’s ever anything you need, anything you want to talk about, anything at all…I am here for you, day and night.”

Stunned, Mildred’s mouth started talking without her permission. “You haven’t before.”

Miss Hardbroom visibly flinched, then nodded. “I know and…I want to say I am sorry. For all of it,” she said, the words sounding like she was pushing them out of her, forcing herself to say them. Mildred wanted to tell her to stop, that she didn’t want her apology just because she pitied her, but her tongue felt too numb to move. “It shouldn’t have taken this long or this much for me to realise it, and I’m sorry for that too. I haven’t supported you as a teacher should, as a senior witch should for a junior witch and I apologise unreservedly. I know it must make you angry to hear me say this now, and that you likely feel I’m only saying it because of what’s happened. But believe me when I say I mean it, and have done for some time now. And I make you this promise, Mildred Hubble…I won’t let you down again.”

Mildred stared at her Potions Mistress, utterly shocked. The heaviness in her chest seemed to ease, the weight of the fog in her mind lifting for a few precious moments. Miss Hardbroom’s hand hadn’t left her face, and Mildred felt herself leaning into it, just for a moment. Feeling a sudden heat and welling pressure in her eyes, Mildred desperately searched for a way to end the moment.

“Was this what you wanted me to come downstairs for?” she asked quietly, furiously blinking back tears. She felt a single pass of Miss Hardbroom’s thumb as she stroked Mildred’s cheek, before she straightened up and took her hand away. Ignoring the part of her that desperately wanted it back again, if only for a moment, _even though she didn’t deserve it_ , Mildred stepped back and glanced at her form mistress curiously.

“No, it wasn’t,” Miss Hardbroom assured her. At that moment, the front door opened to reveal Miss Drill and Miss Cackle, and between them, carrying two suitcases were Maud and Enid.

“Millie!” they chorused, dropping their luggage and rushing forward, as Miss Hardbroom discreetly moved aside and Mildred suddenly found herself crushed between two exuberant teenagers. And there it was again, that feeling of heat and pressure in her eyes, but she pushed it aside.

They spent the day wandering the grounds, Maud and Enid chattering away to fill the silence, and Mildred felt terrible for wishing them gone. For wanting the silence to come back, to be left alone, because she doesn’t deserve this, she doesn’t deserve them. When they get back to her bedroom, they find Maud and Enid’s luggage already there and her narrow little bed enlarged so it can comfortably fit three growing girls. Tabby, Midnight and Muddles were lounging in the late evening sun.

Distantly, Mildred listened as Maud and Enid got ready for bed. Maud had brought a tin of homemade shortbread while Enid had at least two wicker baskets full of sweets from her parents. She let the chatter flow past her, watching her two cheery best friends and felt nothing. All she heard was that little voice in her head saying, over and over again, _‘you don’t deserve them,’_. Round and round, back and forth like a hellish metronome. Even when they finally went to bed, the sky outside an inky black, Mildred still heard it as she fell into a fitful sleep, full of nightmares.

There was fire and pain and heat, so much heat, and that suffocating feeling as her magic hemmed her in…her legs hurt so much…screams, so many screams…the flames roared…someone was screaming her name…' _Mum? Mum!_ _I’m sorry, I’m sorry…Please come back!'_

“Millie!”

Mildred was dragged from her nightmare, kicking and screaming, as someone dragged her off the bed and onto the floor. _‘The flames…why are there flames…? Why is it so hot in here…?’_

Then Mildred realised, as Maud and Enid screamed for Miss Cackle and Miss Hardbroom. Her bed was on fire.

* * *

 

_To be continued…_

 

 

 


	7. Pippa Pentangle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hecate deals with the aftermath of Mildred's nightmare, as the two unknowingly grow closer. Mildred's depression leaves the teaching staff with an uncomfortable decision to make. Pippa Pentangle arrives at the school.

Hecate heard Maud and Enid’s panicked screams at the exact moment she felt Mildred’s magic explode out of her. With a snap of her fingers, her robe had appeared on her body and she transferred to the girls’ bedroom, only to stop and stare at the sight before her.

Mildred’s bedclothes were ablaze, icy blue flames licking angrily at the blankets, Maud cradling Mildred against her on the floor, while Enid had bolted to the door. Mildred’s eyes were wide and frightened, her mouth agape as she stared at the flames. Snapping out of her daze, Hecate raised her hand as she quickly cast an Extinguishing spell, dousing the bed in cold water and smothering the flames until they sputtered out. Silence fell, Hecate staring down at the three girls as they shivered and trembled, before instinct finally kicked back in, and she knelt down in front of Mildred without letting herself think too hard on it. “What happened?” she asked, her voice uncharacteristically gentle as Mildred stared up at her.

It was Maud who answered. “She was kicking and thrashing. I think she had a nightmare,” she said, in a small, scared voice.

“Nightmares don’t set the bed on fire,” Enid interjected, her eyes wide and dark, her body trembling. She was terrified; Hecate could see it in her face, as her eyes darted between the blackened bed and Mildred. At that moment, Dimity and Ada both transferred into the room, Dimity in a mismatched old t-shirt and jogging bottoms and Ada in a flowery nightgown and robe, eyes round and shocked at the sight before them.

“Mildred?” Hecate tried again, turning back to the young girl and tilting her head up so she could meet her eyes. They were wet and dark, terror and pain competing for dominance as her breathing accelerated, on the verge of another panic attack. Her magic turned spiky and electric against Hecate’s skin where she held her chin. “Mildred, it’s alright. It’s alright.”

Accidental magic. Exactly what Hecate had feared could happen; despite the girl’s surface apathy, her magic was reacting to the turmoil of her underlying emotions without control. “I’m s-sorry, Miss Hardbroom. I-I didn’t mean to, I-” Mildred began to stammer, her fearful eyes sending a pang through Hecate. She expected to be rejected, to be derided for her lack of control. Once upon a time, Hecate might have lived up to her expectations, but not this time.

“It’s not your fault,” Hecate assured her softly, her hold on Mildred’s chin softening to a hand laid against her jaw, as she’d done in the Entrance Hall. “Ada, Dimity. Can I leave you with Maud and Enid?”

“Of course,” Ada breathed, gesturing to the two girls to come to her. “Come on, girls. Miss Hardbroom will look after Mildred and we’ll find you two somewhere to sleep. And perhaps some hot cocoa wouldn’t go amiss, hm?”

Enid nodded, but Maud looked unsure. “I don’t want to leave Millie…” she trailed off, uncertainly.

“Go with Miss Cackle, Maud. I don’t want to hurt you,” Mildred spoke up quietly from the floor, as Hecate glanced at her sharply. Maud opened her mouth to argue, but intercepted one of Hecate’s warning looks instead. Dejected, she closed her mouth and nodded meekly. As Ada shepherded the girls out of the room, Dimity nodded to Hecate.

“I’ll make the room safe, and then help Ada with the others,” she said, trying to smile reassuringly at Mildred but Hecate could see the worry in the younger witch’s eyes. She knew what this could mean as much as Hecate did.

“Mildred,” she said, calling the young girl’s attention back to her. “I’m going to transfer us now.”

The girl nodded, her eyes downcast. Hecate nodded once to Dimity before she transferred them away to her rooms. Mildred barely looked up as they materialised, standing shivering in her pyjamas. With a snap of her fingers, Hecate summoned an old tartan blanket from her sofa and wrapped it around the girl, leading her with a gentle hand towards it. With another snap of her fingers, the lamps flickered on and she cast a Warming spell. “I would imagine that fire is probably the last thing you’d want to see right now,” she said gently. It was almost a joke, but Mildred barely noticed. She just sat staring into the dark, sooty depths of Hecate’s fireplace.

“They’re afraid of me now, aren’t they?” she whispered, the words more of a statement than a fact.

Hecate saw no reason to obscure the truth. “They might be a little bit,” she admitted, recalling the look on Enid Nightshade’s face. “But this isn’t your fault, Mildred. And if they’re true friends, they’ll face their fear and overcome it for you.”

Mildred shrugged, looking down at her feet. “I wouldn’t blame them if they didn’t,” she breathed, fiddling with the knotted fringe of the blanket.

Hecate frowned. “Why do you think that?” she asked, carefully. Mildred’s voice was so toneless, so matter-of-fact, it scared her.

Mildred didn’t reply, just stared determinedly at her feet. With a sigh, realising she wasn’t likely to get anything else out of her that night, Hecate turned to a small chest she kept by the fire, rummaging around in the contents. She had a feeling she would need what she was looking for. “You need to sleep, Mildred,” she murmured insistently. “I’ll stay with you to make sure you don’t have another incident,” she added, at Mildred’s panicked look. She muttered a spell under her breath, repressing a shudder as a feeling of slight pressure seemed to settle over the pair.

“What did you do?” Mildred asked.

“A magical dampening spell,” Hecate explained. “It dampens a witch’s connection to her magic, not enough to cut her off completely, but enough to make it harder to use it, unconsciously or not.” Mildred simply nodded, looking relieved. “It’s not a long-term solution, Mildred,” Hecate warned, as she handed her a vial of potion. “Nor is this. It’s for dreamless sleep, but it can be addictive. The only way you’re going to regain control is if you confront what is causing the nightmares in the first place.”

Mildred showed no further reaction to that, making Hecate uneasy. The girl swallowed the potion without fuss, as Hecate conjured a pillow and more blankets, tucking the girl in tightly. At that moment, she heard a soft ‘ _meow_ ’ as Tabby padded into the room, darting across to his mistress and leaping up to her side. Hecate tensed as she felt Morgana emerge from her bedchamber, always sensitive to the presence of another feline in her mistress’s rooms. But to her mild surprise, Morgana took one look at Mildred and Tabby, the girl now sleepily carding her fingers through her familiar’s coat, and trotted across to join them, settling in against Mildred’s side and purring softly.

Hecate huffed a soft laugh. _‘Wonders will never cease, it seems…’_ She shook her head as Morgana fixed a pointed yellow eye on her, her tail lazily flicking from side to side against Mildred’s leg. As Hecate moved to stand, she felt a small, warm hand desperately reach out to grab hers. She turned to find Mildred staring up at her with fearful eyes, fighting the effects of the dreamless sleep potion.

“Please…don’t leave me on my own,” she whispered. Hecate softened, squeezing the girl’s hand comfortingly.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she assured her. “But old witches like me can’t kneel on a cold floor all night without consequences. I’m just getting a chair.”

“You’re not old,” Mildred mumbled sleepily, mollified that Hecate wasn’t leaving her.

“Hush now, Mildred Hubble,” Hecate replied, as she pulled one of her armchairs closer. “Go to sleep. I won’t leave you, I promise.”

Mildred slipped into a peaceful sleep, as Hecate relaxed. Mindful of the dampening field, she got up only once to fetch a blanket for herself, curling up on the chair like a child would, making sure her feet were covered by the blanket and her robe. Morgana remained by Mildred’s side, Tabby seeming determined to burrow his way into Mildred’s arms until he was permanently fixed there. With a soft smile, Hecate leaned her head against the wing of the chair and let herself doze.

A few hours later, Ada transferred in to check on the pair, walking silently on slippered feet to observe the quietly sleeping pair of witches and their familiars. In her sleep, Hecate’s hand had slipped off the arm of her chair, and was now gently grazing Mildred’s where the girl had turned onto her side in her sleep, one hand dangling off the edge of the sofa. Morgana, perhaps sensing her witch’s charge was at peace, had migrated to her mistress’s lap while Tabby snuggled in under Mildred’s arm. In the grey light of dawn, Ada smiled tenderly before silently transferring away, careful not to wake them.

* * *

 

Mildred awoke groggily, her eyes blinking as she found herself only half-awake. Tabby’s purring was fit to wake the dead, rumbling away under her arm. She felt a warm hand gently touching her own, smiling slightly. But when she glanced upwards, expecting to see golden curls and a soft smile, she found pale skin and dishevelled black curls like a raven’s wing. Her smile faded, grief surging up in her chest, drawing her further from sleep. As if sensing her pupil’s distress, Miss Hardbroom’s hand sleepily entwined itself with hers, sending a shiver of warmth through Mildred, loosening the stranglehold grief had on her heart.

_‘HB looks very pretty with her hair down…‘_ Closing her eyes again, she tried with all her might to just forget, just for a moment longer, holding Tabby close and clinging to the warm hand holding her own as she drifted back off to sleep.

When Mildred next awoke, it was to bright sunlight streaming through Miss Hardbroom’s windows. The witch was nowhere to be seen, but Morgana lay in her place, watching Mildred as she idly cleaned her paws. She frowned, wondering what had awoken her when she heard it again: the _creak_ of the door as it opened.

“Millie?” Maud called out, inching into the room as Mildred sat up, blinking. Tabby grumbled at being disturbed, jumping down from the sofa as Morgana watched with beady eyes. Behind her, Enid followed, looking a little awkward as Maud rushed to embrace her friend. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she assured them. “HB gave me a dreamless sleep potion and dampened my magic. I feel much better.”

“Millie…” Enid began, shamefacedly. “I’m sorry for freaking out last night. It was the last thing you needed, and I’m so sorry.”

Mildred looked down at her hands where they lay clasped on the mound of blankets she’d been buried under, shrugging. “I don’t blame you for freaking out,” she replied, in a small voice. “It’s probably for the best if you keep away from me…”

“Millie, no!” Enid snapped, before wincing and shaking herself. She and Maud both moved closer and reached out to comfort her. “You’re our best friend, and that won’t ever change. HB brought us here to cheer you up and keep you company, and by the Code, we’re going to do just that!”

Mildred’s head shot up, eyes wide in bemused amazement. “Wait, HB? I thought Miss Cackle had arranged for you to come-” she gasped. Maud shook her head.

“It was HB. She contacted our parents and arranged for us to come stay for a little while,” she explained. “She also just explained what happened last night to us, and well…gave us a bit of a talking to.”

“Even when she’s being nice, she’s still terrifying,” Enid shuddered. “Anyway, come on! It’s breakfast time and I’m starving.”

And with that, Mildred had no more time to sink back into sleep, safe, silent sleep, nor to ponder this latest revelation, as she was surrounded once more by her bubbly, chatty friends while they dragged her out of Miss Hardbroom’s rooms and to breakfast. But it seemed that Miss Hardbroom was determined to live up to her promise.

* * *

 

Indeed, Miss Hardbroom’s promise was forefront in her mind as she paced Ada’s office, wincing at the pain of the crick in her neck. _‘I’m getting far too old for this…’_ one part of her mind hissed, but it had been worth it to ensure that Mildred got a proper night’s sleep. Maud and Enid had left only a short while ago, the latter slightly sheepish for her reaction the previous night. Hecate couldn’t entirely blame her, but that was the last thing Mildred needed right now. She needed her friends’ strength and support now more than ever. Absentmindedly, she snapped her fingers to temporarily undo the wards that usually kept students out of her private rooms so they could get inside and hopefully be there when Mildred awoke.

Ada watched the younger witch pace incessantly, her face pale and tired. She’d just finished explaining her conclusions about the previous night, and had been mollified to find that Ada concurred. As she watched Hecate and listened intently, Ada had to keep repressing a smile as she recalled the scene she had come upon in Hecate’s parlour, and the concern she could feel emanating from the woman as intensely as a furnace. It wasn’t exactly the time or place for it either, but Ada couldn’t help herself.

“We always knew there was a chance that Mildred’s pain could manifest as spontaneous magic,” Ada interjected. “There must be a way to help her, Hecate.”

“We can only help her if she’s willing to help herself, Ada,” Hecate sighed, rubbing at her sore neck irritably. “I think…no, I _**know** _ that she’s harbouring a colossal amount of guilt and self-loathing from the accident. She’s keeping it inside, not letting herself truly grieve, and it’s turning inward. If we can’t help her, then we’ll soon have a lot more to worry about than burnt blankets.”

“Perhaps Doctor Nandi could help?” Ada suggested. “From what Dimity’s said, she specialises in children…paediatrics, I think Dimity called it? She might have some suggestions to help Mildred.” Hecate let out a sigh through gritted teeth, making Ada roll her eyes. “Come now, Hecate. You might not like it, but it seems Dimity and Mildred were right about her. And in any case, she is already involved.”

“Fine,” Hecate bit out, tersely. “I have also asked Pippa Pentangle to visit. They have a good relationship, I thought she might have better luck in drawing the girl out than I. She should arrive today.”

Ada sighed, but let it go. Only time would make Hecate Hardbroom see, and admit to herself, that she was more capable of caring for that girl than anyone else. She tapped out a message on her maglet to Dimity, asking her to see if Chandra could get away for an hour so they could meet. “Very well. We will need to talk with Mildred soon, anyway. There are decisions to be made that I feel is only right she have a say in.”

Hecate nodded in agreement, just as she felt a very familiar magical signature draw near the castle, one she would know anywhere. “I believe Miss Pentangle’s arrival is imminent,” she breathed, looking to Ada as the older witch inclined her head.

“Go, and bring her here. I’ll wait for Dimity and Doctor Nandi,” Ada replied, as the Potions Mistress nodded and transferred away.

* * *

 

Outside, it was a beautiful summer’s morning. The sun swathed the grounds of the castle in warmth, so the very stone seemed drenched in it. Maud, Enid and Mildred sat outside on the front lawn, having convinced Miss Tapioca to let them take their breakfast outside. Maud and Enid attacked their porridge with gusto, while Mildred picked at it half-heartedly. Tabby lounged by his mistress’s side.

Maud and Enid were eagerly discussing their plans for the day. “Perhaps we could have a game of witch ball later,” Enid suggested, earnestly. Maud scrunched up her nose.

“I thought we could start our summer projects for HB. It’s not every day that we get the castle library all to ourselves,” Maud retorted. Now it was Enid’s turn to show her disgust.

“Give me a chance to have _some_ fun this summer, Maud. It’s way too early to start our projects!” she whined, before glancing at Mildred for backup. “What d’you say, Millie? Witch ball or library?”

“I don’t really mind,” Mildred shrugged, still not looking at the two girls. “Whatever you want.”

Maud and Enid exchanged a worried glance. “Perhaps we could take it easy today,” Maud offered, slowly. “Just hang about the grounds, stay in the sun. Maybe do some drawing…”

Mildred just shrugged again, causing alarm to flare in both girls. Drawing had always been Mildred’s outlet whenever she felt upset, so to not show any interest at all…she really was as bad as HB had said. Enid looked around desperately, looking for something, _anything_ , to pique Mildred’s interest when she saw a strange shape flying toward the castle. “Hey, what’s that?” she asked, pointing. Maud craned her head to look, but Enid’s remark barely made Mildred glance up.

“I think…it’s Miss Pentangle!” Maud exclaimed excitedly. And sure enough, the shape turned into a pink blur of speed as the witch drew closer to the castle. As she slowed down to make her descent, they saw she had a trunk tied to the back of the broomstick. “I wonder what she’s doing here! Come on, Millie. Let’s go say hello!”

Mildred passively let herself be pulled upright and over to the witch as she alighted on the lawn outside the front doors of the school. “Miss Pentangle!” Enid called.

The witch turned, her eyes widening as she smiled cheerfully. “Well met, girls!” she called, giving the traditional greeting with a graceful bow. The three girls returned it, Mildred with a distinct lack of grace, as her smile turned soft and tender as she looked to Mildred. “Mildred. I am so sorry…”

Mildred knew she meant well, but those words made her stiffen like a bucket of cold water had been dumped over her. They were words she’d heard all too often in the week since she had been awake. “Thank you, Miss Pentangle,” she replied automatically. Her voice was cold and robotic.

Pippa’s heart ached for the young girl standing in front of her, hair lank and dishevelled, still dressed in rumpled pyjamas. She wanted so much to step forward and take the girl into her arms, but she didn’t know if that would be welcome right now. She’d dealt with bereavement a few times with some of her pupils, but they’d always had other family to help them through the grieving process. Mildred had no one.

_‘Not quite no one,’_ she amended, feeling a shiver of familiar power wash over her as Hecate transferred in behind her. “Well met, Miss Hardbroom,” she said, keeping up the pretence of formality in front of the girls. Turning, she bowed and raised her hand to her forehead.

“Well met, Miss Pentangle,” Hecate replied, returning the greeting. “I trust your flight was good?”

“Excellent flying conditions, I had no trouble at all,” Pippa replied, intrigued as she saw Mildred visibly perk up at the sound of Hecate’s voice. She still looked withdrawn and abnormally quiet, but there was at least a spark of life in her eyes now.

“What are you doing here, Miss Pentangle?” Enid asked curiously.

“Well, now the term is finished and summer’s here, I’ve been invited to stay and discuss a new exchange programme between our two schools,” Pippa lied, eyes darting to Mildred.

“Now run along, girls. Miss Cackle is waiting for us,” Hecate interjected softly. With a hand, she gestured for Pippa to precede her, stealing a glance at Mildred as she turned away.

Pippa saw the softness in her eyes and could barely credit it, if she hadn’t seen it before, during every mirror chat from the past fortnight. Turning back at the main doors, the two witches watched from the shadows as Maud and Enid tried to convince Mildred to accompany them, but she just shook her head and wandered off by herself, Tabby at her heels. “By the Goddess, Hecate. A part of me wondered if you were exaggerating when you told me of Mildred’s apathy.”

“You should know me better than that, Pippa,” Hecate murmured, somewhat offended. “I never exaggerate.”

“I’m sorry, Hiccup. I just…she’s been like this the whole time?” Pippa asked, in a shocked whisper.

“Apart from last night’s incident,” Hecate admitted, before going on to explain Mildred’s nightmare, her accidental magic and what she’d done so the girl could sleep. “I stayed with her until morning. But it’s not a long-term solution; magical dampening spells will erode a witch’s connection to her magic if used too much, and dreamless sleep potions are addictive.”  
“I can see that,” Pippa remarked, with a wry smile as Hecate winced again at the crick in her neck. “Here, Hiccup. Let me?”

Hecate lowered her hand from where she’d been clutching the join of her neck to her shoulder, staring at Pippa for the longest time. Just as Pippa felt sure the other witch wouldn’t take her up on her offer, she nodded.

Pippa moved slowly, like Hecate was a skittish kitten, as she raised her hand and pressed it to the back of Hecate’s neck. Gathering her magic, she muttered a quick spell under her breath as Hecate let out a quiet, low moan of appreciation, quite unconsciously Pippa was sure. “You were never very good at casting that spell on yourself,” she whispered, hoping that the other witch wouldn’t take it as a criticism. But Pippa had never spoken truer words: Hecate had always struggled with caring for herself.

Hecate was too focussed on the exquisite feeling of the knot in her neck muscles unwinding to pay too much attention to Pippa’s words, true though they may be. “I have more important things to worry about,” she said quietly, as she opened her eyes met Pippa’s own. “Thank you, Pipsqueak.”

Pippa blushed, hoping against hope that Hecate couldn’t see it in the shadows of the foyer. “You’re welcome. Now, how can I help?” she asked, as she followed Hecate down the corridor to Miss Cackle’s office.

“You and Mildred have a good relationship, a close bond,” Hecate explained cautiously. “One…unhampered by any tension. I was hoping you might speak with Mildred, perhaps see if you have any more luck in drawing her out of her shell than I.”

“Of course I’ll speak with her, Hecate but…” Pippa sighed, exasperatedly. “Once again, you’re giving yourself too little credit. Just now, when I arrived, she showed no more interest in my arrival than in the time of day. But when you appeared, she visibly perked up. She wants you, Hecate.”

“That as may be but-” Hecate began to speak, dismissively, before Pippa cut her off in frustration.

“But nothing, Hecate. Just keep doing whatever it is you’re doing, and you’ll get through to her,” Pippa cut her off firmly. Hecate’s lips firmed into a thin, tense line as she glared sideways at her old friend. “And don’t go giving me that look. It didn’t work in school, it’s certainly not going to work now.”

“You’re incorrigible, Pippa Pentangle,” Hecate muttered through gritted teeth. After a moment, she relaxed slightly and resumed their walk towards Ada’s office. “In any case, Miss Cackle wishes to discuss how we may move forward. She’s also asked Doctor Nandi to be here, in the hope she might have some idea of how to best help Mildred.”

“Ah, yes. The Ordinary witch,” Pippa smiled, with a knowing sideways glance at Hecate. “I’m dying to meet her.”

“I’d keep your hands to yourself, Pipsqueak. She’s already enchanted our Miss Drill,” Hecate remarked, in a faux-casual voice. Pippa snorted, but did not comment further as they rounded the corner of the corridor and entered Miss Cackle’s office.

* * *

 

Inside, Dimity and Chandra had arrived. The latter was still dressed in her scrubs, deep shadows under her eyes. Nevertheless, she smirked mischievously when Hecate entered the room. “Hey, Professor Snape! How’s it going?” she called over, prompting a groan from Dimity as Pippa stared.

“What in Morgana’s name-?” Pippa began to ask, but Hecate waved her away with an impatient gesture.

“Don’t ask,” she muttered, before fixing Chandra with one of her beadiest glares. “Well met, Doctor Nandi.”

“Well, now everyone is here we can get down to business,” Ada put in from behind her desk, trying her very best to hide a smile. “Well met, Miss Pentangle, Doctor Nandi and thank you for coming on such short notice.”

As Pippa returned the greeting, Chandra inclined her head. “No problem, but I do need to be back at the hospital in about an hour,” she told the assembled witches. “How can I help?”

“In truth, Doctor Nandi-” Ada began, before the young doctor huffed impatiently.

“How many times do I have to say it? Call me Chandra,” she interjected firmly.

“Very well, Chandra. As I was saying, in truth…Mildred is not doing well,” Ada continued, quickly explaining their worries and Mildred’s depression. Chandra began to frown, her eyes turning sad. “We hoped you might have some advice for us in dealing with such an issue.”

“I’m no psychologist, Miss Cackle,” Chandra said, a thoughtful expression on her face. “Though I’ve seen more cases of child bereavement than I’d care to remember…”

“Any advice at all would be helpful, Chandra,” Ada pressed.

“Well, firstly a bereavement can cause huge upheaval in a child’s life, doubly so for Mildred. Structure, routine, is important. Give her a sense of stability and security, as well as looking after her physical health and wellbeing. Give her something to do, something to divert her mind from thinking too much about what’s happened. But she’ll also need someone to talk to, to confide in. If she’s suffering from PTSD-”

“PTSD?” Pippa asked, frowning quizzically.

“Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. It’s common amongst survivors of traumatic situations. From the sounds of it, Mildred’s showing symptoms of that and survivor’s guilt, though I think you’d be better off asking a counselor about that one,” Chandra explained patiently. “Which leads me to my next piece of advice: listen to her. When she’s ready to talk, support her and let her share whatever she needs to with you in as non-judgemental way as possible. But don’t push her, let her set the pace and make sure you won’t be disturbed. It’s important that Mildred doesn’t feel like she’s imposing on you or taking up your time. Boundaries are important too; if she shows any problematic behaviour, don’t make excuses for it and let her off. And finally, if there’s any decisions to be made, involve her in them as much as possible. Particularly the funeral arrangements, if she wants to be.”

“Thank you Chandra,” Ada said, genuinely. “May we call on you if we have further questions?”

“Sure, you know how to reach me,” Chandra nodded, with a sidelong glance at Dimity.

“Perhaps you could even visit. You both have one thing in common,” Dimity offered, after looking to Miss Cackle for her approval. “Your backgrounds. You’re a witch who’s spent her entire life not knowing magic was real. Mildred just found us a bit quicker.”

Chandra smiled softly, her frown disappearing. “I’d like that,” she murmured, before checking her watch. “Anyway, I’d better get going if I’m going to grab some lunch before my shift starts again. Dimity, could you…?”

She waved a hand in farewell before Dimity gestured, transferring her back to the hospital. Once she disappeared, Ada let out a sigh. “What do you think, Hecate?” she asked. “From what Chandra’s said, her assessment seems to match up with your own.”

“Her suggestions seem…sensible but I’m not sure how much time we can give Mildred to face her grief. Her magic is bubbling away inside her like a cauldron ready to boil over. We may have to push her for her own safety,” Hecate said grimly.

“That could be dangerous, Hecate,” Pippa murmured. “Push her and she may lash out without meaning to. I saw it a few times with one of my students.”

“In any case,” Ada interjected before Hecate could reply. “We have other concerns to think about. I’ve been contacted by the Hubbles’ solicitor. As the only surviving Hubble, Mildred is the sole beneficent of their wills and they need to be read. I wanted to consult with Mildred before agreeing, but he suggested Friday morning. And then there’s the funeral…I’ve done my best, but I didn’t know Julie Hubble well enough to know what she might have wanted. According to colleagues at the hospital, she wished to be cremated but beyond that…” she shook her head, her face crumpling for a moment. Hecate moved to place a comforting hand on the older witch’s shoulder, squeezing gently.

“You’re doing a fine job, Ada. After lunch we’ll call Mildred in here so we can discuss the will and the funeral arrangements with her,” Hecate said.

“We’re all here to help, Ada,” Pippa added, with a small smile at her friend. “Perhaps Dimity, Hecate and I can come up with a plan to reintroduce some routine back into her life?”

“Absolutely. You just focus on taking care of this, and we’ll take care of Mildred,” Dimity said in agreement.

With an affectionate smile at the three younger witches, Ada nodded as she patted Hecate’s hand.

* * *

 

_To be continued…_

 


	8. Girl Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mildred continues to struggle with her grief as her magic grows ever harder to control. Hecate and Pippa do their utmost to support Mildred as they go to the Hubble family solicitor to hear the reading of the will.

The castle that housed Miss Cackle’s Academy boasted many wonders. There wasn’t a single student, staff member, or even Miss Cackle herself, who could claim to have discovered them all. One very well-known wonder however was a small terraced courtyard, set slightly apart from the main castle, where Miss Hardbroom cultivated various potion ingredients that were too rare and too dangerous to be accessed easily or to permit students to gather them. It was full to bursting with numerous plants from all over the world, all surrounded by enchantments designed to mimic their natural habitats and protect anyone visiting the garden from some of the more touch-sensitive plants. During term-time, it was covered in wards that prevented any student below sixth-year and without Miss Hardbroom’s express permission from entering. Now however, it was open.

It was there that Miss Hardbroom later found Mildred, staring intently at a patch of Water Hemlock, her eyes tracing the clumps of pale flowers curiously. “Water hemlock,” Hecate stated, by way of announcing her presence as she strode to the girl’s side. “Also known as _cicuta maculata_. It contains a toxin which is extremely poisonous if ingested.”

“Why do you have it in your garden then, Miss Hardbroom?” Mildred asked, turning her head to stare up at her teacher. There was curiosity in her eyes, as Pippa’s words ran through Hecate’s head. It was the most reaction to anything she’d seen from Mildred in days. If the girl wanted to learn, then Hecate would gladly teach.

Clasping her hands in front of her, Hecate looked down at the plant, before meeting Mildred’s stare. “One of the side effects of water hemlock poisoning is retrograde amnesia. If properly processed, with the correct spells and nullifying agents, then a small amount can be used to great effect in Forgetfulness Potions and Spells. It is very powerful magic, Mildred, and not something taught before seventh year.”

Mildred nodded, looking away from the older witch and staring out at the horizon. Hecate’s gaze darted over the girl, taking in her unkempt appearance, before she sighed. “Where’s Maud and Enid?” she asked, gently.

Mildred shrugged. “I think Maud wanted to start her summer project so she’s in the library. I don’t know where Enid went,” she replied quietly. “I know you arranged for them to come here. Thank you for that.”

Hecate tried not to let the colour in her cheeks rise at Mildred’s thanks, apathetic though it might be. She’d never meant for her to find out, those wretched girls must have let it slip out when Mildred woke up that morning. “Friends are more important than ever now, Mildred Hubble. I know there will be times you need to be alone,” she began, slowly and carefully, Pippa’s words ringing in her ears. _‘Damn you, Pippa Pentangle. Damn you and that irritating perceptive streak of yours…’_ “But for the times you need someone, don’t push them away. Let them be there for you.”

“I know,” Mildred admitted. “It’s just…”

“What?” Hecate asked, coaxingly.

“Everything feels so empty, so pointless. I just feel…numb. Maud and Enid don’t deserve that,” Mildred whispered, looking down at her fingers as she fidgeted and picked at the nails. It was at that point that Hecate did something no one would ever have suspected: she knelt down in the dust of the garden path and took Mildred’s hands, stilling them.

Because Hecate could read between the lines and hear what Mildred wasn’t saying, but what she likely truly meant. That it wasn’t that Maud and Enid didn’t deserve her apathy, but rather that Mildred didn’t deserve their friendship. She knew it, because once upon a time she had used similar justifications to push her only friend in the world away. Pretending it was because _**Pippa** _ deserved better than her, when in truth it was because Hecate could not truly conceive of a reason why _**she** _ deserved Pippa.

“Mildred Hubble, listen closely and listen well for I will only say this once,” she said commandingly. “And take it from someone who knows it all too well: don’t decide for your friends what your friendship is worth. Let them decide that, or face a lifetime of regret and hurt where there needs be none. Just…let yourself be loved, Mildred Hubble, for trust me when I say…that you _**do** _ deserve it.”

Mildred stared at her Potions Mistress, stunned by her impassioned speech. Though she hadn’t raised her voice, or lowered it into that lethally quiet tone she used when she was truly angry, Mildred hadn’t been able to look away or ignore her words as they came. She felt the hot pressure of tears once more, but blinked them away. It was becoming harder to do so with every passing day. For her part, Miss Hardbroom looked embarrassed but defiant, refusing to evince any regret for her candour in her face as she stood, pulling Mildred up with her.

“Now,” she said, once again the cool, business-like Potions Mistress. “Since you find yourself at a loose end, you will come with me to the Potions Lab. I have rather a lot of potions ingredients to inventory and process for storage before the new term, and I need an assistant. Since Maud is focussing on her project and Enid Nightshade cannot touch a cauldron without blowing it up, you’ll have to do. Come.”

Before Mildred could say anything else, Miss Hardbroom had transferred them to the lab, where she was set to work stripping lavender and chopping the stalks. Not even Mildred could find anything to mess up with that, nevertheless it distracted her from the dark thoughts that always hovered on the periphery of her mind. As she chopped and stuffed stalks into bags to be dried, she felt a growing sense of comfort as Miss Hardbroom moved around her, checking jars of ingredients against her inventory lists, and throwing out the odd comment here and there, elucidating on the properties of various magical herbs as Mildred listened quietly.

For Hecate’s part, the girl was silent and acquiescent, taking instruction readily and without difficulty. That alone was enough to make her feel somewhat uneasy. Though Hecate kept her eye on her as she bustled about the Lab, the girl didn’t put a foot wrong where she sat bent over her work. They whiled away the hours until Hecate checked her watch and saw it was lunchtime with a start. “Mildred?” she called, looking to her as the girl glanced up from her work. “It’s lunchtime.”

“I’m not really hungry, Miss Hardbroom,” the girl mumbled, looking back down at her pile of chopped lavender.

“You’ve worked hard this morning, Mildred. And don’t think I didn’t notice that you barely ate any breakfast,” Hecate replied firmly, although she made sure to keep her tone as gentle as possible. With a flick of her fingers, their work benches cleared. “Now, while I don’t usually allow food and drink in the Potions Lab…” and with another flick, a tea service materialised on Hecate’s desk at the front of the room, along with a plate of double chocolate chip cookies that she knew Mildred liked. She’d caught the girl sneaking them up to her room often enough. “Now, I’d like you to have at least one cup of tea and one biscuit.”

To Mildred’s slight shock, and contrary to her previous assertion, she was feeling hungry for once. She grabbed a biscuit and ate it eagerly, trying to recall her manners in front of Miss Hardbroom while the Potions’ Mistress poured tea. Unlike the tea they served at meals, Miss Hardbroom kept her own particular blend, making Mildred sniff the air in appreciation. “How do you take your tea, Mildred?” she asked, bracing for the worst.

“Just a splash of milk please, Miss Hardbroom,” she replied, to Hecate’s approval. She handed the girl the cup as she finished her biscuit, wiping the crumbs from her lap. She watched with clandestine satisfaction as Mildred’s hand shot out to grab another biscuit, while she prepared her own tea. As she dropped the slice of lemon into the steaming amber liquid, she was shocked when Mildred spoke again. “My Mum always drank her tea that way too.”

Glancing up at the girl, whose eyes were as round as saucers and evidently as shocked by her own candour as Hecate had been to hear it, Hecate inclined her head, aiming for nonchalance. “Well, then your mother had better taste than I thought,” she replied lightly, as Mildred’s shock faded but her regard did not.

“You didn’t like my mother very much, did you?” she asked quietly, making Hecate stiffen. She placed her cup down in its saucer, the _chink_ of china making her want to flinch, as she considered how to answer.

“It wasn’t a case of like or dislike, Mildred,” she said truthfully. “I didn’t know her well enough. But she seemed like a good person, and it was obvious she loved you very much. I’ll never forget Selection Day. Even with all my power, even full knowing what I could do to her, she still had the gumption to put me in my place,” she chuckled, finding some humour in the memory now. “And at parents’ evening, she was equally as fierce in your defence. She had a point, loath though I was to admit it at the time. I failed in my duty of care to you as a witch junior to myself,” Hecate glanced up to see Mildred’s eyes swimming in tears, but she didn’t feel any distress emanating from the girl’s magic. She was lost in her own memories, happy ones she was sure. “Tell me about her,” she prompted, softly.

“She liked cheesy 90s pop music and romantic comedy films,” Mildred replied haltingly, her eyes heavy with tears but a happy smile on her face. “She loved Doctor Who, but said she didn’t know who she fancied more: the Doctor, Missy or River Song. She was an amazing nurse; she taught me the names of all the bones in the body before I was ten. She used to read me stories from Greek mythology and Camelot before bedtime. And she made the best tea in the world. She had a scrapbook of all the places she’d visited before she had me. She promised she’d take me to see them one day.”

“And your grandmother? Your aunt?” Hecate asked carefully, her curiosity piqued. Her heart swelled painfully at the image of a warm, generous-hearted woman with a lust for life and fiercely protective of those she cared for, traits she’d obviously passed to her daughter. It was as different as could be expected from her memories of her own mother.

Mildred shrugged. “I-I know it sounds bad but…I don’t feel as sad for them. Auntie Mo was always off somewhere - she worked with Doctors Without Borders - it was her first visit to Mum in years. Granny…she didn’t really approve of Mum having a baby without a husband. She thought Mum should have given me away after I was born. It wasn’t until my granddad died that things changed. It was supposed to be our big family reunion, with everybody together for the first time,” she trailed off, eyes unseeing as she stared into the distance. “Is it bad I don’t feel as sad about them?”

“I don’t think so, Mildred,” Hecate replied honestly, recalling her own feelings of detached grief when her parents died. “It’s hard to grieve for someone who was rarely there. You don’t have to talk about them anymore if you don’t want to.”

“Thank you, Miss Hardbroom,” the girl nodded, wiping away an errant tear.

“Now, drink up,” Hecate prompted. “I’m afraid there are some things we need to discuss with Miss Cackle in a few minutes.”

Mildred gulped down her lukewarm tea, her mind churning, distracted from the sorrow that once again begun to creep up on her as she’d talked about her mother. What things? But Miss Hardbroom gave nothing away as she vanished the tea service, serenely brushing some invisible lint from her long skirts as she stood from her chair. With a glance at Mildred to make sure she was ready, she snapped her fingers and transferred them to Miss Cackle’s office.

* * *

 

They materialised to find Miss Drill, Miss Pentangle and Miss Cackle waiting for them, instantly making Mildred tense. Sensing her young charge’s sudden stiffening, Hecate reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently, trying to impart her own strength into the younger witch. She felt Mildred take a deep breath, before her shoulders visibly rose and she squared her jaw. “Well met, Miss Cackle, Miss Pentangle, Miss Drill,” she called, performing the customary greeting. The three older witches returned it before Hecate gently prompted her to take a seat opposite Ada’s favourite armchair. Rather than sit, she stayed standing beside Mildred’s chair, hovering, unconsciously protective. She caught Pippa’s knowing, pointed glance and narrowed her own eyes in response.

“Now, Mildred. I’m sure you must be wondering what I’ve called you here for,” Ada began. Mildred nodded. “Well, I’m afraid there are some things we need to discuss…about your family’s funeral and the will.”

“Oh,” Mildred said, looking down at her hands as they tightened into fists on her lap. Hecate watched her closely, senses alert for any change in her magic but there was none at the moment. The hint of life she’d seen in Mildred all morning began to fade, her apathy returning as she simply nodded once.

With a sad sigh, and swift glance at Hecate and Pippa, Ada quickly explained everything she’d arranged for the funeral, a joint one for all three Hubbles. Mildred listened in pensive silence, not saying a word, barely giving any reaction as Ada outlined the plan. “What do you think, Mildred? Is there anything you’d like to add?” Ada paused to ask, peering intently through her glasses at Mildred.

Mildred shrugged. “She wasn’t religious so…that sounds okay,” she mumbled hesitantly. “She…she always liked the hymn ‘Nearer My God To Thee’ though. The instrumental version, I mean.”

“I’m sure I can arrange something with the undertakers,” Ada assured her kindly, but Mildred was still avoiding the assembled witches’ eyes, staring into the fire determinedly. “Of course, Mildred…if you don’t wish to attend, you don’t have to,” she added, tactfully.

“What!?” Mildred snapped, her eyes darting away from the fire, her sudden anger surprising the three older witches. “Why would you think that I-I wouldn’t-!?”

“We meant nothing by it, Mildred,” Pippa reached out to soothe the girl, one hand on her arm.

“We just wanted you to have a choice,” Dimity added softly, as the girl looked to her. “We wouldn’t think any less of you if you didn’t want to go.”

“No,” Mildred breathed, then repeated the word, stronger and firmer, a spark of her old defiance returning as Hecate placed her hand on the back on the armchair, her fingertips just brushing the back of Mildred’s hair. “No. I want to go.”

“Very well,” Ada sighed. “I’m sorry, Mildred. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Mildred nodded, her eyes downcast once more as she stared into the flames. She sniffed, as tears dammed in her eyes but she refused to let them free. It hurt, but she didn’t deserve any less. She’d let her family down once, she wouldn’t let them down again.

“There is also the matter of the will,” Ada continued gingerly. “We have an appointment with your family solicitor tomorrow morning. I’m sorry, Mildred, but you have no choice but to attend this one. You won’t be alone though. Miss Pentangle, Miss Hardbroom and I will accompany you, if you don’t mind.”

Mildred looked up, a torn expression on her face. “It’s okay, you don’t have to…I mean…” she stammered, before trailing off uncertainly. Hecate couldn’t see the girl’s face easily from her vantage point, but she could feel her bravado dissipate with every word.

“Don’t be absurd,” she interjected, though with no malice as she might have, once upon a time. Her voice was gentle and firm, brooking no disagreement regardless. “We won’t leave you to face this alone,” she added quietly. “Remember what I promised you, Mildred Hubble. I have no intention of breaking my promise so soon.” _‘Or ever, for that matter…’_ she thought, but didn’t say it. The girl appeared on the verge of tears but defiantly fighting them back as she gazed up at her Potions’ Mistress.

Watching the two witches, Ada exchanged a knowing glance with Pippa. It seemed Hecate had started to accept what both witches had been telling her from the start. It was a pity it had come about from such a tragic occurrence, but at least Mildred would have a fierce protector in her corner for now on. She kept watching Pippa as the younger witch looked back towards other two, and inwardly smiled to herself. She only hoped that Hecate would accept a certain other truth sooner rather than later too. It was the least she deserved.

* * *

 

The next morning dawned bright and clear. Mildred sat at her bedroom window, watching the sunrise, Tabby curled up in her lap. She hadn’t slept all night, her mind churning, thoughts flashing through her mind like race cars on a track, too fast to truly consider before they were nothing more than flashes of colour in her mind. Behind her, Maud and Enid were fast asleep in her bed.

Mildred hadn’t slept at all.

The previous night, Miss Hardbroom had cast the Magical Dampening Spell again, but she couldn’t have anymore dreamless sleep potions until the previous dose had completely left her system, to prevent addiction. Or so HB claimed.

Mildred hadn’t taken the chance that her nightmares might come back to haunt her again, forcing herself to remain awake throughout the night. It hadn’t been too difficult - Enid snored like a congested cow - and she’d been too busy dreading the coming morning to even contemplate sleeping. So now she sat, watching the dawn while her friends slept on behind her, feeling too empty to even feel tiredness. Around her, the castle was waking up. Mildred could feel it, like the very stones was stretching and basking in the early morning warmth, while below her tower, she could distantly hear the clanking of pots and pans in the kitchens in the basement, where the skeleton house staff that remained behind at Cackles during the summer holidays got to work cooking breakfast. In the middle distance, she could see a part of the ramparts where they led down to Miss Hardbroom’s terrace garden and the stretch of lawn where students often congregated during the early summer months to revise in the sun. It was mostly empty now, of course, but for two lone figures walking together in the early dawn. One Mildred could instantly identify as Miss Hardbroom, a tall, dark and upright figure amongst the verdant greenery, but the other she struggled to make out until she glimpsed a flash of golden hair.

Miss Pentangle.

They were just walking, heads down and obviously deep in conversation. But Mildred found something oddly poignant about the sight of them as she watched them walk slowly across the lawns towards Miss Hardbroom’s garden. It was the way they looked at each other, she decided. She’d noticed it before; during the Spelling Bee and when Miss Pentangle had come to the school after Miss Cackle had been fired. They seemed…gravitated towards each other, like a binary star, unable to pull away from each other even if they’d wanted to. When Miss Pentangle moved, Miss Hardbroom watched her. When Miss Hardbroom moved, Miss Pentangle moved with her, as if anxious not to lose any proximity. Mildred watched them with an aching heart as they moved out of sight.

Not long after, Mildred heard Maud stretch sleepily behind her, yawning. Tabby stretched in her lap, greeting the other familiars with a sleepy grumble as Muddles and Midnight blinked owlishly at the morning sunlight streaming through Mildred’s tower window. “Morning, Millie,” Maud called softly, mindful of waking Enid who slept on. Enid Nightshade was the very opposite of a morning person. “Did you sleep well?”

Mildred just shrugged, making Maud sigh as she got out of bed. “You can’t go on like this, Millie,” she told her gently. “You need to try to sleep.”

“I’m not tired,” Mildred replied shortly, regretting her brusqueness a moment later as Maud’s face fell. “I’m sorry, Maud. I just…can’t at the moment. I’m…scared,” she then admitted, with difficulty, Miss Hardbroom’s words ringing in her ears.

“Millie,” Maud reached out to her hesitantly, as if unsure whether Mildred would welcome her affection or flinch away. “It’s okay. I know you’re scared you’ll hurt us, but I trust you. We trust you,” she amended, glancing over her shoulder at the snoring Enid. “You’d never hurt us.”

She sounded so certain, so sure that Mildred wanted to cry. If only she could feel so sure of herself…

There came a knock at the door, startling both girls. Enid snapped awake, eyes blinking at her sudden awakening, Muddles imitating her mistress. With a nod from Mildred, Maud darted across the room to open the door, revealing Miss Pentangle standing behind it, balancing a tray in her arms. On the tray was a towering pile of toast, a steaming pot of tea, a butter dish and several small glass jars of jam.

“Good morning girls!” Pippa smiled and greeted them cheerfully. “I’d thought I would surprise you with breakfast in bed. Don’t tell HB though.”

Maud giggled, Enid managing a sleepy chuckle while Mildred just watched Miss Pentangle intently as she bustled into her room, placing the tray down on her desk. Snapping her fingers, the teapot lifted into the air unsupported, before pouring out four cups of tea which Miss Pentangle distributed to the girls. Inhaling deeply, Mildred detected the familiar scent of Miss Hardbroom’s preferred blend with a small surge of delight. Catching Miss Pentangle’s eye, the older witch winked at her before busying herself with preparing breakfast.

Unlike earlier, when she’d been walking the grounds with HB in her usual magenta robes and cloak, Miss Pentangle now wore a smart, Ordinary-appearing suit in sombre black, her hair twined in a soft ponytail. Finding the lack of pink jarring, Mildred glanced away, refusing to acknowledge what Miss Pentangle’s clothes meant as she handed toast to Maud and Enid. A moment later, she felt a hand gently clasp her shoulder, turning to find the older witch standing beside her with some toast.

“Would you like some toast, Mildred?” Pippa asked, with tender eyes as she looked down at Mildred. Mildred shook her head and braced for the usual platitudes whenever she refused to eat. She just…didn’t feel hungry. Yesterday with Miss Hardbroom had been a fluke. But to her surprise, Miss Pentangle just smiled sadly and shrugged, taking a big bite out of the slice. “Oh well,” she said, despite having a mouthful of bread. “More for me.”

For some reason, Mildred felt herself smiling a little, one mirrored by Miss Pentangle as she winked at her again, and sat beside her at the window. Tabby meowed loudly, and Miss Pentangle promptly fed him the rest of her slice of toast, staring placidly out of the window at the grounds. Mildred sipped her tea, finding the aromatic blend soothing as she watched Miss Pentangle, as the morning light played over her finely sculpted features, only lightly dusted with make-up.

“Penny for your thoughts, Mildred?” she asked, making Mildred jump slightly. She’d been so intent on the grounds, Mildred had thought she wasn’t aware of her own scrutiny. “How are you feeling about today?”

Mildred shrugged, looking down at her empty teacup. With a snap of her fingers, Miss Pentangle summoned the teapot to her hand, pouring Mildred another cup without a word. “I wish I didn’t have to do this,” she admitted, in a small voice.

“Oh sweetheart, I know you do,” Miss Pentangle said in a hushed voice, reaching out a hand to cover Mildred’s own tightly. “I wish you didn’t have to either.”

“Thank you for that, Miss Pentangle,” Mildred said.

“Pippa,” Miss Pentangle stated firmly, surprising Mildred anew. “When we’re in private, you may call me Pippa.”

Mildred nodded, but didn’t speak again, turning her head to stare out at the grounds again, insensate to the cheerful chatting of her friends behind her. Pippa watched her, wondering what else to say but unsure if there could be anything else. More than anything, she wanted desperately to avoid saying the wrong thing to Mildred. Every person dealt with grief in their own way, and there were no set rules for helping someone through it. For her students, showering them with love and attention had seemed to work, but Mildred seemed too distant, too detached for that yet. She hadn’t faced her grief yet, and Pippa sensed she wasn’t the one to help her do that. No, she just needed to wait and be there for Mildred in the meantime, until the day she was needed.  
That day could be fast approaching, she admitted to herself. Like Hecate, she could sense Mildred’s magic, growing ever more turbulent beneath her shell of apathy by the day. She could only hope that Mildred would let her help, when the time came.

“Now,” she began, prompting Mildred to turn and look to her curiously. “Why don’t you go and have a nice bath, and just try to relax for a little while? I’ll come for you when it’s time to get out.”

Mildred looked as if she was about to protest, just for a moment, when she meekly nodded and shuffled out of the room. Pippa looked at Maud and Enid with worried eyes, then exhaled tremulously. “I know, girls,” she murmured. “I know. Now, you need to get washed and dressed. I believe Miss Drill was looking for some help with the summer stocktaking while Mildred, Miss Cackle, Miss Hardbroom and I are at the solicitors’.”

“But we want to go!” Maud protested vehemently.

“We want to be there with Millie! She needs us!” Enid agreed passionately.

“I know, girls,” Pippa tried to assuage them, holding up her hands for quiet. “But four witches in an Ordinary solicitors’ office is four too many as it is. Mildred will need you when she gets back.”

Grumbling and shooting rebellious glares at Pippa, the two witches reluctantly did as they were told, leaving the room with an ungraceful slam of Mildred’s door. Pippa sighed, perhaps understanding Hecate’s particular brusqueness towards the likes of Enid and Maud a little more, before she recalled they had just as much a right to be worried for Mildred as she did, even more so. Of course they wanted to be there for her, but they couldn’t risk any accidents in the Ordinary world. Mildred would be a risk enough as it was.

Standing from her perch at the window sill, Pippa gave her skirt a perfunctory swipe, trying to flick a few stray dust motes from the restrictive black fabric. Really, she needed to have a word with Hecate and Ada about giving Mildred a proper room, or at the very least doing some minor renovations to the turret room. Especially as it was about to become her permanent home, at least until she came of age…

Mind racing, Pippa went to check on Mildred. The corridors were eerily silent as she walked past student bedrooms, beds stripped and shelves forlornly empty. One of the few things she hated about summer was the emptiness that came to her school. A school was more than bricks and mortar, without its lifeblood, without students, it was nothing. Once the first few weeks had passed, when she’d had time to catch her breath and relax for a little while, Pippa always found herself counting down the days until the start of the new term.

Stopping outside the shared bathroom, Pippa paused to consult her watch. They only had an hour before they needed to transfer to the solicitors’ office. As much as she’d like to leave Mildred to take her time, they couldn’t dawdle. Knocking lightly on the door, she called out, “Mildred? Mildred, how are you doing?” When she received no reply, Pippa frowned, worry beginning to curdle in the pit of her stomach. “Mildred? May I come in, sweetheart?” she asked again, keeping her voice light and cheerful.

“Come in,” Mildred’s voice eventually replied.

Pippa slipped the door open and stepped inside. Mildred was stood at the sink, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Pippa glanced at the bath, dismayed to find it obviously empty and dry, but with a quick look at Mildred’s hair and the humidity in the air, she guessed she must have showered instead. “Do you need a hand, sweetheart?” she asked, with a knowing smile. She recalled many a morning spent helping a certain dark-haired Potions’ Mistress with her hair, until she mastered spells that let her tame her hair without help. Pippa had never said, never let on but she’d missed those early mornings spent wrestling with Hecate’s unruly curls, had been saddened when Hecate had triumphantly demonstrated her new spell even as she’d pretended to be happy for her friend. It made her smile in reminiscence now, as she approached Mildred and met her gaze in the mirror. With a snap of her fingers, she cast a Drying Spell, and then summoned a stool, gesturing for Mildred to sit.

Mildred obeyed silently, eyes intent on Pippa in the mirror as she smoothed out her hair, now dry and starting to show signs of frizzing as it always did when freshly washed and blow-dried. The witch’s hands felt nice on her hair, soothing, a little like the way Mum had always stroked her hair when she was upset about something. _‘You don’t deserve it…’_ that nasty little voice crowed in her ear, making Mildred stiffen.

Pippa’s hands paused in her hair. “Mildred, are you okay? Do you need me to stop?” she asked, carefully.

“No, no!” Mildred gasped, before that nasty little voice in her head could stop her. She looked down at her hands, ashamed, when Pippa’s hands appeared in her line of sight, clasping hers tightly.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” she told her, reassuringly. “Whatever you need, Mildred.”

Mildred plucked up the courage to meet Pippa’s eyes, her own welling up with tears as she blinked them back. She opened her mouth to tell her that she was fine, that she wanted to be alone and that she could manage her hair without help, when a second voice, stronger and far more terrifying than the other one in her head, spoke up. _‘Just…let yourself be loved, Mildred Hubble, for trust me when I say…that you **do** deserve it.’_ So, instead she said “I’d like some help, please Miss Pentangle.”

“Now what did I tell you? It’s Pippa,” the older witch insisted cheerfully, her smile brightening as she turned back to Mildred’s hair. “Now, what would you like? Your usual plaits?”

“No, not the plaits,” Mildred replied hesitantly. “They don’t…they’re not…I don’t…” she trailed off, unable to explain exactly why she felt such antipathy towards her old hairstyle in words. Pippa would probably think she was being silly but…the plaits didn’t fit her anymore. The plaits belonged to a girl called Mildred Hubble with a Mum called Julie Hubble. Not Mildred Hubble the orphan. Not Mildred Hubble who failed her family.

Pippa’s smile turned sad, even as understanding flashed in her eyes. But she didn’t press her. “Alright, sweetheart,” she murmured softly. “How about a braid instead?”

Mildred nodded, glancing away as Pippa picked up a brush and easily combed through her long tresses. After making sure there were no knots, her quick fingers made equally quick work of Mildred’s hair, tying it back into a tight braid that started from the back of her skull and extended down almost to the small of her back. When Pippa looked up from her work, she blinked and had to remind herself that she hadn’t accidentally wandered through the Mists of Time. Sat before her in the mirror was a young girl that bore a striking resemblance to Hecate when she was young, albeit with a few differences. For one, Mildred’s features were softer, rounder, and her mouth more ready to smile and laugh, or at least it had been. But they shared the same traits: dark hair, dark eyes and pale skin. Even their figures were similar, if Mildred’s growth spurt in the previous year was anything to go by. It wouldn’t be hard for any Ordinary person to look at Mildred and Hecate side by side, and think them related.

“Miss Pent-Pippa?” Mildred’s concerned question shook her from her reverie, as she quickly plastered a smile on her face and hoped that Mildred hadn’t seen, or at least hadn’t guessed the reason for her sudden preoccupation.

“Sorry, sweetheart. Must have stepped through a fairy ring this morning,” she remarked breezily. “There, all done. Like it?”

Mildred looked at her reflection, and fought the urge to shrug. Pippa had put so much effort in, it’d be rude to let her apathy stop her from appreciating it. And there was nothing on the planet that could make anyone want to be horrible to Miss Pippa Pentangle, Mildred reflected ruefully. “I do, Pippa. Thank you,” she murmured quietly, glancing over her shoulder at the older witch. Pippa smiled and gently turned her back to face her reflection, resting her chin on Mildred’s shoulder as she gently squeezed her arms.

“You look very pretty, Mildred,” she observed. The braid took away some of the softness in her face, giving an onlooker a glimpse of an older Mildred. “You’ve got your Mum’s cheekbones, I think.”

“You think?” Mildred asked, surprised. No one ever said she looked like her Mum; bright, sunny golden Julie with her wild curls and her beaming smile. They never commented on which parent she resembled most, because the truth was just too awkward for most people. Looking up into Pippa’s eyes in the mirror, she could see the sincerity in her eyes as she nodded soberly. “Nobody’s ever told me that before,” she confessed. “They never tell me things like that because they worry…worried about how we’d react. Because of my Dad.”

“You mean because your father’s not in your life?” Pippa gently probed, eyes intent on Mildred’s face for any sign of distress.

Mildred nodded. “Mum said we could look for him again when I felt ready. I’m…still not ready,” she admitted hesitantly, as if waiting for some lecture or pointed remark about imposing on the teaching staff when she had family out in the world somewhere. In truth, she’d thought about her father in a detached sort of way since the…accident, but she couldn’t bring herself to search for him, only to saddle him with a teenage daughter he’d never known. Not to mention, what if he refused to let her do magic, or come back to school? There were too many unknowns…

“Fair enough,” Pippa’s soft, understanding voice forced Mildred from her reverie, prompting her to look up at the fair-haired witch bemusedly. “Now, why don’t you go get changed and I’ll meet you outside your room in fifteen minutes?”

With a nod, Mildred hopped off the stool and left the room. Pippa briefly considered going with her and helping her dress, but she didn’t want to overwhelm her if she needed time to herself. With a sigh, she Vanished the stool and tidied up the bathroom, smiling wryly to herself. In one respect Mildred and Hecate were very much not alike: Hecate would have a blue fit if she ever saw the state Mildred left the bathroom in.

* * *

 

Hecate waited with Ada in the front hall, doing her very best not to tap her foot or check her watch for the umpteenth time. Pippa had gone to wake the girls early enough, and Maud and Enid had come down, sullen and grumpy as Dimity had corralled them into following her to the kitchens, so where was Mildred? The girl always had a penchant for tardiness, but they really couldn’t afford to be late this morning. In the meantime, she had to also contend with the infantile urge to pull at the hem of her skirt to make sure it stayed down. For the occasion, she’d worn Ordinary attire, following Ada and Pippa’s example. Her sombre black suit included a pencil skirt that just…would…not…stay… **DOWN**!

_‘Really, I don’t know how Ordinary women don’t feel ready to commit murder by the end of the day if they’re forced to wear such…impractical garments all the time,’_ Hecate thought, restraining a haughty sniff. To top it off, she’d softened her usual hairstyle so the bun sat at the nape of her neck instead, and it felt heavy and unfamiliar, irritating her even more. Her heels clicked against the stone floor as she fidgeted, drawing an amused glance from Ada, who appeared none the worse for exchanging her fluffy cardigans and loose skirts for a suit that reminded Hecate most alarmingly of Agatha.

At that moment, Pippa and Mildred transferred at the foot of the stairs. Entirely against her will, Hecate briefly caught her breath at the jarring sight of Pippa in black, with only the slightest hints of her usual magenta pink on her nails and in the hairclip restraining her golden waves. Nonetheless, she looked…good. But then, Pippa always looked good.

“You might want to close your mouth, Hecate dear,” Ada whispered beside her, forcing an alarmed squeak from the other witch, quickly stifled. She looked sideways at Ada, and found nothing but a knowing amusement. With a vigorous mental shake, Hecate forced herself to refocus on the young girl accompanying Pippa as they walked towards them, eyes downcast and uncharacteristically quiet. She frowned, feeling oddly unsettled by Mildred’s appearance, as her eyes scanned over the smart black dress Pippa had found for her, her hair tightly pulled back. That was it, the hair…gone were the twin plaits Hecate recalled from the very first day she’d arrived at the school, and in their place was a severe, tight braid down her back. It wasn’t dissimilar to the style Hecate had favoured during her own adolescence.

“Mildred,” Ada called, snapping Hecate out of her daze. “How are you feeling, dear?”

“Okay, I guess,” she mumbled, though it was clearly a lie as Hecate eyed her narrowly. She shrugged, still avoiding everyone’s eyes. “I just want it over with.”

“And it will be, soon enough,” Hecate assured her, stepping forward to place a hand on Mildred’s shoulder. “I see Miss Pentangle’s missed her vocation as a hair stylist. Her skills of old haven’t slipped one jot,” she added, with a wry glance at Pippa. Mildred glanced at her questioningly, prompting her to explain. “Pippa used to arrange my hair into such styles as this often, before I learned how to accomplish the same effect with a spell. It looks well on you, Mildred.”

There was a hint of colour in her cheeks as Mildred ducked her head, avoiding her teacher’s gaze. “We’d better get a move on,” Hecate continued, clearing her throat to ease the awkwardness she felt. Checking her watch, she nodded. “Are you ready for the transference, Mildred?” she asked, waiting for the girl to nod before she raised her hand and gestured. “Come.”

Without further ado, the four witches vanished in a swirl of black smoke.

* * *

 

They materialised in a deserted alleyway off the main road where the solicitor’s office was. Mildred shuddered, trying to shake off the momentary nausea she still felt upon transferring, and glanced up at her companions.

When Miss Pentangle had materialised them into the foyer, Mildred had had to mentally kick herself to keep from staring at Miss Hardbroom. She’d seen her with her hair down, of course, numerous times whenever she’d been caught out of bed after curfew, and in her usual high bun, but the comparatively soft, loose bun she wore at the nape of her neck just looked…odd. Just as unsettling as the complete dearth of pink in Miss Pentangle’s outfit, Miss Hardbroom’s hair had exerted an almost hypnotic pull on her eyes before Miss Cackle’s gentle query about how she was feeling had shoved it into the recesses of her mind.

Miss Hardbroom still had her hand nestled in the hollow where her shoulder met her neck, the weight of the older witch’s spindly hand a gentle comfort to Mildred as she looked up to her. Miss Pentangle peered around the corner of the entrance to the alleyway, checking for any witnesses, before nodding to the others. With a gentle squeeze, Miss Hardbroom prompted Mildred to exit the alleyway before her, stepped out into the street as the baking summer sun beat down on them mercilessly.

As they walked along the street, Mildred stared at her shoes, not looking up as she walked along beside Miss Hardbroom, and behind Misses Cackle and Pentangle. She focussed on the need to keep putting one foot in front of the other, despite the reluctance that dogged her every movement, her every thought as they drew nearer to the solicitor’s office. She didn’t want to go, didn’t want to sit in some stuffy office while someone droned on and on about things Mildred didn’t understand and had no desire to. All of it was just fuel on the fire, adding to the building pressure Mildred could feel inside her with every minute, her magic scraping along her veins like it had turned to barbed wire inside her body. She hadn’t used magic since the…accident, and truthfully she was scared to try since she’d set her bed on fire a few nights before. She would just mess up again, or hurt someone. It was best she didn’t use it, she didn’t even deserve to have it since she failed to protect her family…

They stopped beside a set of temporary traffic lights as Mildred glanced up, frowning. What had happened to the traffic lights on King Street…? Looking at the road, at the newly repaired tarmac and still pitted pavement, where a few bunches of flowers had been tied to the railings, her eyes widened and she gasped. Her heart began to race, her mouth turned as dry as the Sahara, and she stopped dead as panic began to build. King Street…the traffic lights…it was here…

“Mildred?” Miss Hardbroom stopped and turned to her, frowning, before concern flooded her features. “Mildred!”

Miss Cackle and Miss Pentangle both stopped and turned about, eyes wide with alarm at the sight of Mildred about to descend into another panic attack. The solicitor’s office was only a few feet away, but Mildred was paralysed, staring compulsively at the traffic lights and the flowers tied to the railings beside them. “Mildred, what is it? What’s wrong?” Pippa asked urgently, coming to Hecate’s side as they looked down at the girl.

Hecate looked sideways, first at the traffic lights and the road, then at the flowers and the small cards nestled inside them, as realisation hit her. She mentally cursed her stupidity as she realised where they were, and what had caused Mildred’s sudden breakdown.

They were standing on the site of the crash, all but a few traces of it erased. The place where Mildred’s life had come crashing down.

Hecate could sense Mildred’s magic welling up inside her, pulsing along with her panic as she began to hyperventilate, eyes darting between the traffic lights, the road and the flowers. She dropped to her knees, placing both hands on Mildred’s shoulders, ignoring the discomfort of her stocking-clad knees against the concrete paving slab. “Mildred,” she murmured quietly, as calmingly as she could. Mildred’s eyes, wide, haunted and dark, darted to hers and she refused to let go, repeating the same trick she’d used when the girl had first awoken from her restorative sleep. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Just breathe, my girl, breathe,” she breathed soothingly. “Don’t look at the road, or the flowers, just look at me. Keep looking at me.”

Mildred didn’t disobey, holding Hecate’s gaze for a disconcertingly long time before she blinked, but the colour slowly returned to her cheeks, and her breathing slowed as she hiccupped quietly. “Good girl,” Hecate told her, in a quiet purr, aware of Ada and Pippa watching her helplessly. Mildred didn’t want them, she only wanted Hecate. “We won’t walk back this way, I promise. Are you ready?”  
Wordlessly, Mildred nodded as Hecate pulled herself upright, hesitating for only a moment before she held out a hand to Mildred. As the girl took it, Hecate swung around and placed her body between Mildred and the road, tucking the girl into her side and draping her other arm around her shoulders as they walked, blocking her view of the place where her family died. Mildred’s hand was tight around hers, and she made sure to return the pressure, holding tightly to Mildred’s thin little hand and shoulder as they walked the last few feet to the office, Hecate quite determined not to let go for as long as Mildred needed her.

* * *

 

_To be continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, sorry about the long wait for this update. I won't bore you with the details but it was a hectic few weeks. Anyway, please enjoy!


	9. Breaking Point

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The days of the Hubbles' funerals arrives. Mildred finally reaches breaking point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, hello. Apologies for the long wait but RL punched me in the solar plexus and I didn't have the will to write anything for a long time, and I will confess to a certain amount of writer's stage fright about this chapter. Which I ended up splitting in two because it was turning into a behemoth anyway.

Two hours after they arrived, the quartet of witches stepped back out onto the bustling street. Mildred was once again tucked against Hecate’s side, her eyes downcast and dark. She refused to look up as her form mistress led her away, in the opposite direction to the way they came. The others followed, sombre looks on their faces but Pippa paused, frowning.

She stopped, glancing around at the busy street, eyes narrowed. Something, some instinct, niggled at the back of her mind, at the periphery of her vision, the sensation of insects crawling over her skin making her uneasy. She scanned the street, trying to find the source of her unease but it wasn’t obvious. There were no menacing figures or gaping onlookers, no suspicious-looking people trying to avoid drawing attention, just some Ordinary people going about their business. Her eyes caught on a slender young red-head in bizarrely ripped jeans, deaf to everything but the ridiculously large headphones over her ears, but to all intents and purposes she was simply waiting for a bus. She certainly sensed no magic emanating from her.

For a moment, as the girl with the headphones raised a hand to tuck back a trailing lock of hair, Pippa’s eyes caught on the ornate, chunky bangle on her left wrist and her frown deepened.

“Pippa?” Ada called back over her shoulder, a worried frown in her eyes. “Are you coming, dear?”

Pippa shook herself, tearing her eyes away from the young woman as she tried to dispel that uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach, turning on her heel and marching quickly after the others to catch up. As she walked, she mulled over what she had just witnessed earlier.

The solicitors’ office had been an…interesting experience, to say the least. She hadn’t really known exactly what to expect, having had no reason to venture into the Ordinary world very often, and certainly no reason to accompany any of her Ordinary students to such establishments. Ordinary law was quite different to Witching law, it seemed.

Miss Cackle seemed to agree, as she slowed her pace to walk beside the younger witch. “I must say, what an odd few hours that was,” she muttered quietly to Pippa, as they walked along the road. In this direction, there weren’t any convenient alleyways for them to use to transfer, but it was worth the walk to avoid distressing Mildred any further. “I hadn’t realised Ordinary laws were so…complicated.”

Pippa nodded in agreement. Julie Hubble hadn’t been a wealthy woman, there hadn’t been much to leave behind for her only daughter. A small nest egg, some funds Julie had saved when she could since Mildred’s birth, for whatever her daughter wanted to use it for when she turned eighteen. As the last of the Hubbles, her grandmother’s estate also defaulted to her, and a part of her aunt‘s, while the rest had been gifted to the charity she had worked for. It would all be kept in trust until Mildred turned eighteen. Pippa rather suspected Mildred didn’t care one jot about the money. Nothing so paltry could ease the pain of her loss. Or the loss yet to come.

At the reading had also been two representatives from the local council. For a moment, Pippa had wondered if one of them was that awful social worker Hecate had mentioned before, but it seemed not if the others’ reaction was anything to go by. They had introduced themselves as being from the council housing services, and had explained that due to the death of Julie Hubble and the guardianship of Mildred falling to Ada, the flat would have to be reallocated to another family.

Mildred would have to say goodbye to the only home she’d ever known before Cackle’s Academy.

For witches, home was the quintessence of their identities, of who they were and where they’d come from, in unbroken line from mother to daughter. Witches were linked to their homes through magic and blood, and when they were torn from it, they were never the same. They could only hope that Mildred was not bound too tightly to her former home.

“It’ll be a wrench for her,” Ada continued. “It’s such a shame but then I suppose if there’s a need for it, they have no choice in the matter.”

“Indeed,” Pippa agreed. “We’ll have to ensure that Mildred feels as at home at Cackle’s as we possibly can.”

A witch without a home, without a place, was not a fate she would wish on anyone. Ada caught her eye and the two headmistresses shared a moment of understanding, before they turned to hurry after Hecate and Mildred.

* * *

 

Dimity had just emerged from the PE store cupboard with the last box of spare witch ball uniforms to be inventoried when she heard Enid Nightshade’s sigh of frustration as she placed her clipboard down. “Done, Miss Drill!” she called over.

Maud and Enid had hardly been the most willing of helpers that morning. She knew they’d have preferred to accompany the others to support Mildred, but two juvenile witches, with no experience of the Ordinary world, in an Ordinary solicitor’s office…Dimity didn’t need to be HB to see what a potential disaster that could turn into. As it was, they’d not exactly been doing a stellar job with the stocktaking.

Not that she could blame them. Her mind wasn’t exactly on the job either…

“Thank you, Enid,” she called over, when an idea came to mind. Miss Tapioca was away on holiday, so the kitchens would be empty at this time of day. Perhaps… “Come over here, girls.”

Enid stomped over, looking entirely mutinous as Maud appeared from under a pile of spare uniforms, dishevelled pigtails waving in the slight breeze.

“I think that’s enough stocktaking for today,” Dimity announced, dusting her hands off and vanishing the last boxes back into the stores. “Now, I know you’re worried for Mildred, and disappointed you couldn’t be with her.”

“Yes, Miss Drill,” Maud admitted, while Enid just huffed disconsolately.

“Well, I have an idea. How about we do something nice for Mildred for when she gets back?” Dimity suggested, with a mischievous smile. “What’s her favourite food?”

“Double chocolate chip cookies!” Enid shouted excitedly, the mutinous glare on her face having melted away with Dimity’s suggestion.

“Can we make them the Ordinary way? Do you know how, Miss Drill?” Maud asked, curiously.

Dimity smiled, a touch mistily. “Someone taught me once, a very long time ago. C’mon!” she said, holding out a hand to them both. With that, she transferred all three of them to the kitchens.

* * *

 

Some time later, Mildred and Misses Hardbroom, Pentangle and Cackle transferred back into the cool Entrance Hall of the school. All four witches breathed clandestine sighs of relief at being back within Cackle’s comforting walls, although for varying reasons.

Hecate looked to her young charge, eying the young girl for signs of further distress but there was none. Since they’d stepped foot in that solicitor’s office, Mildred had shown not one iota of emotion after her outburst outside. Even now, she remained detached, numbly staring at the wall even as she still clung to Hecate’s hand.

It had been a hard morning. Having to sit and listen while that solicitor, no matter how kind and friendly, droned on and on about what her family had left her would be have been bad enough, but to learn that she would soon have to vacate her childhood home…Hecate had been seriously tempted to hex the two council officials who had come to deliver the bad news, if not for the fact doing so would break the Code, would hardly have helped the situation and they were so clearly sorry to deliver such news to Mildred. At least that awful Miss Cartwright hadn’t been present; then Hecate’s control would truly have been tested.

Not to mention, she now had a burgeoning headache. Being in the Ordinary world, with all its sights and sounds, had brought back memories better left deeply buried. And she really needed to get out of this infernally uncomfortable outfit. Hecate shook her thoughts aside, focussing instead on Mildred as she looked down at the young girl.

“Mildred, what do you need?” she asked quietly, releasing the girl’s hand to squeeze her shoulder.

“I want to be alone, for a little while,” the girl replied, her voice a bare whisper. Hecate could sense the pain underneath those calm words, but let it lie, for now. Now was not the time.

“Of course,” she sighed. “I’ll send Maud and Enid up in a little while. And Mildred…if you need anything else, just ask.”

“Yes, Miss Hardbroom,” Mildred nodded, not meeting Hecate’s concerned eyes. She went to leave, before pausing as she stepped up on to the first step of the stairs. She turned back, and said in a rush, “Thank you…for coming with me. All of you.”

“Of course, Mildred,” Ada replied with a warm smile.

“There is no place we’d rather have been this morning, Mildred,” Pippa added, as she stepped up beside Hecate. Mildred looked down on them all, and nodded, just once before turning and trudging up the stairs.

Hecate’s heart ached, watching her go and wanting to follow, but she knew Mildred needed a moment alone to process what had happened that morning before she’d be ready to talk about it. Instead, she turned back to Ada and Pippa just as Dimity transferred into the Entrance hall, looking like she’d recently lost a wrestling match with a bag of flour.

“What in the Goddess’s name happened to you!?” she asked, dumbstruck.

“We decided to do something nice for Mildred when she returned,” Dimity explained, sheepishly. “I’m just glad Miss Tapioca is still away. She’d murder me if she saw the state of her kitchen right now.”

Hecate sighed in exasperation, fighting back reluctant amusement, as Ada chuckled. “Well, I’m sure Mildred will appreciate it,” she assured Dimity. “Now, I feel a nice cup of tea is in order. Hecate, Pippa?”

“I’ll be along in a moment. I just need to get out of these infernal …garments,” Hecate replied, tugging at the hem of her skirt for the fiftieth time that day, privately of the opinion that they hardly warranted such a description. Ada chuckled again, shaking her head as she turned and led the way to her study.

Later, after having changed back into far more comfortable clothing and enjoying a rejuvenating cup of tea in Ada’s rooms while they‘d discussed the events of the morning, Hecate had quietly transferred up to Mildred’s room to check on her.

She’d inched the door open, glad at least that the hinges had been oiled recently so they did not squeak, and peered inside. She felt a gentle smile on her lips at the sight that met her eyes: Mildred lay cradled between Maud and Enid, their familiars lying across their legs like an overstretched, furry blanket.

_‘It seems Dimity’s worn them out. Who knew stocktaking and destroying Miss Tapioca’s kitchen was such tiring work?’_ Hecate thought to herself, her smile turning fondly wry. On the desk was a depleted pile of double chocolate chip cookies; she could only hope that Mildred had eaten at least one of them. The events of the morning had no doubt exhausted her.

She was torn from her thoughts by a quiet whimper. Looking up, she realised Mildred was the source of the noise. Through their nascent bond, she could feel her terror as the tendrils of a nightmare took hold, her pale face contorted in pain. Once again, Hecate reacted without thinking.

She turned and sat on the edge of the bed, glad of her long limbs as she leant over Maud’s still soundly sleeping form to lay her fingers against Mildred’s cheek. At Hecate’s touch, the girl calmed and stilled, although the sense of fear and pain she could feel didn’t ease enough for the older witch’s liking.

_“By Mab’s embrace and the Goddesses’ grace, will your nightmares melt away and leave no trace, sleep deep, sleep long, regain the strength for that you have yet to face,”_ Hecate intoned under her breath, a pale lavender mist exuding from her fingers and drifting across Mildred’s sleeping face. Slowly it eased as Hecate repeated the spell, one of her own devising but one she’d also never used before. It was risky, invoking the power of ancient deities but worth it if it meant Mildred slept peacefully. Across the bond, she felt Mildred’s nightmare dissipate as she relaxed back into dreamless sleep. She stroked Mildred’s cheek one last time before straightening up, glad the others weren’t awake to witness her display. With a graceful gesture of her hand, she transferred away before Enid or Maud could wake up.

Or so she’d thought. Maud had awoken when she felt the bed dip from Miss Hardbroom’s weight but had made sure to keep still and feign sleep, while she watched her form mistress through half-closed eyelids. She’d watched in astonishment as their usually taciturn, aloof deputy headmistress stroked Millie’s cheek with a tender expression and then uttered a spell for dreamless sleep Maud had never heard before. Calling on the power of the goddesses was a tricky thing, if what Mr Rowan-Webb told them in Spell Science was anything to go by, but then Miss Hardbroom had always been scarily powerful. It was also decidedly modern magic, using a spell without the aid of a potion. But as Maud watched her transfer away, it wasn’t Miss Hardbroom’s spell that stayed in the forefront of her mind but the tenderness in her voice, her eyes and her hand as she’d stroked Millie’s cheek. As she mused over what she’d seen, she snuggled closer to Millie, slinging a protective arm over her waist and closed her eyes.

* * *

 

Two days later, Hecate awoke with the dawn, feeling a strange reluctance in her very bones. She could only imagine how much worse Mildred would be feeling right now. She knew she hadn’t slept a wink that night.

It was the Hubbles’ funeral today.

Morgana meowed loudly from her bedchamber door, demanding to be let out. With a soft groan, Hecate pulled herself from her bed to do so but stopped dead when she saw the stormy clouds massing outside her windows. One glance at her familiar told her the cat would not be swayed.

“Rather you than me,” she said, flicking her fingers to open the doors between her bedchamber, study and the corridor beyond. The cat disappeared from the room as Hecate rubbed her face tiredly, catching a glimpse of her pale face in her bedroom mirror. The funeral wouldn’t be for some hours yet, but there was no chance she would be getting anymore sleep.

Not with Mildred’s pain and apprehension starting to wash over her through their bond. Hecate sighed and rubbed her temple, trying to ease the start of a magical pressure headache. She had a feeling however that no amount of pain relieving potion would be enough to ease it.

At that moment, there came a knock on her door. “Come!” she called, reaching for her robe and pulling it on quickly. The door swung open to reveal Pippa stood on the other side, also still clad in her nightgown and robe, blonde hair loose and dishevelled from sleep. “Pippa?”

“I’m sorry, I just…couldn’t sleep,” the other witch explained sheepishly.

“You too, hm?” Hecate smiled wryly, beckoning the other witch in to her rooms. Closing the door to her bedchamber, she lit a fire in her grate with a snap of her fingers. Despite the summer, it was still rather chilly in the early mornings and they were both stood on uncovered stone flags in bare feet after all. She beckoned Pippa to sit down on the sofa, as she bustled about making tea.

“Is it any wonder?” Pippa asked. “Poor Mildred. Do you have any idea what we can expect today?”

Hecate’s hand stilled for a moment on the teapot as she replaced the lid, her body stiffening at the question. A second later, she relaxed and turned back to Pippa with the tea tray floating along in her wake. “I know about as much as you do, Pip,” she replied. “From what Ada’s told me, it is to be a ‘humanist’ service, whatever that means, with music and readings by those who knew the Hubbles best.”

It didn’t differ all that much from Witching funerals; aside from the traditional spells and chants to speed the deceased on their way through the Veil, they also recalled anecdotes about the deceased and played music before they committed their bodies to the earth. It seemed that while not having known Julie Hubble very well, Doctor Nandi had put Ada in touch with some of her former colleagues who advised her as to music choices, and suggested readings or volunteered to give them.

“Has Mildred….will she give a reading?” Pippa asked curiously. Hecate shrugged as she poured the tea.

“I honestly don’t know,” she murmured, wincing again as she felt Mildred’s apprehension spike. “Ada had made it clear she was under no pressure to do so.”

“Hecate…” Pippa breathed, straightening slightly in her seat. “What is it? Is it the bond? Is Mildred alright?”

“She is feeling justifiably apprehensive and pained about what is happening today. Her emotions have become…more difficult to block out recently,” Hecate admitted, reluctantly. Pippa’s look turned pointedly knowing.

“You mean the bond is getting stronger?” she asked, already guessing the answer. “When were you planning on telling her?”

“Certainly not today, of all days,” Hecate retorted curtly. Pippa snorted.

“Of course not! But Hecate, she must be told. The longer you leave it, the harder it will become,” she counselled her, in a gentle voice. “The sooner she knows, the quicker you might be able to find some answers about it.”

“And I will tell her, Pippa, after she’s had time to recover from today,” Hecate stated firmly, with a quelling sideways glance in Pippa’s direction. After a moment, the blonde witch inclined her head.

“Of course. Can you take anything to ease the headaches?” she asked, taking a sip of her tea. Her face transformed with delight, as a wide smile appeared on her tired features. “You always did make the best tea, Hiccup.”

Pleased, but determined not to show it, Hecate ducked her head to hide her answering smile. “To answer your question, no not really. Sometimes, I can meditate through the worst of it but…Mildred’s finding it harder to keep her feelings hidden under that cloak of apathy she’s been wearing since she awoke from the accident.”

“We just need to get her through today. Then, we can find a way to help Mildred come to terms with what’s happened,” Pippa mused. “I noticed you seemed to be finding it easier, with Mildred I mean. The other day, outside the solicitor’s office?”

“Ahh, yes,” Hecate mumbled, sitting up to place her teacup down. “Perhaps…you weren’t entirely misguided in your advice to…stop thinking too hard about helping Mildred when she needed it,” she further admitted, in an embarrassed voice.

Knowing better than to crow about it, Pippa leant forward and clasped Hecate’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I’m glad,” she murmured, feeling strangely breathless at what was simply a friendly gesture. Hecate seemed not entirely unaffected, if her sudden stiffness and growing blush was anything to go by. At least, what she could see of it through the curtain of Hecate’s wildly curling hair.

Taking a deep breath, Pippa forced herself to let go.

“More tea?” Hecate offered, in an oddly strangled voice.

“Please,” Pippa replied, holding out her cup and saucer and hoping the other witch didn’t notice how her hand was lightly shaking.

A few hours later, Hecate’s tea set had been returned to its proper place and Pippa had long since departed to ready herself for the funeral. Hecate herself had changed into one of her long-skirted ensembles, her only adjustment for camouflage the smart yet light black coat that would hang to mid-calf rather than her formal witch’s cloak. She’d put her hair up in its usual braided bun, and as she readjusted her watch on its chain, she inhaled deeply as she scrutinised her reflection in the mirror.

_‘Well get a move on, Hardbroom. Standing here like a transfixed ninny won’t make this horrible day go any faster. Mildred needs strength, not procrastination,’_ she told herself sternly. With a firm nod to her reflection, she transferred away to the corridor outside Mildred’s bedroom. A knock at the door later, and it opened to reveal Enid Nightshade, resplendent in a smart black skirt and blouse, her hair in its usual double buns.

After much wrangling and cajoling by the girls, Miss Cackle had finally given in and assented to letting Maud and Enid accompany Mildred to the funeral. While she had her misgivings, Hecate couldn’t deny Mildred the support she knew they would be able to provide her.

“Good morning, Miss Nightshade. I take it you are ready?” she inquired. At the girl’s wary nod, she stepped inside as Enid moved back, eyes scanning the room for Mildred. She was sat on the bed, listlessly staring into space as Maud gently braided her hair into one long plait. All three girls were dressed in sombre black, the shade so completely unrelieved by any hint of colour that it felt unexpectedly jarring to Hecate’s eye. As Maud finished off the style with a flick of her fingers, Hecate moved to stand in front of Mildred, drawing the young girl’s apathetic gaze. “Mildred? It’s time.”

Mildred’s eyes were dull, glazed over with tears that refused to fall, as Hecate felt her heart clench tightly at the sight of her. Wordlessly, uncaring about the other two girls in the room, she held out her hand to Mildred who grasped it and let the older witch pull her up from the bed. Gently, Hecate placed her hand between Mildred’s shoulder blades, a silent but unyielding weight at her back as the young girl took first one step, then another towards the door. Behind them, Enid and Maud quietly followed.

In the Entrance Hall waited Misses Cackle, Pentangle and Drill, all garbed in black Ordinary clothes. With just a sad smile for Mildred, Miss Cackle gestured for the three girls and Hecate to join them before they transferred to the hotel where the funeral cars would pick them up.

* * *

 

The morning started and passed in a blur for Mildred. Once again, dark circles stood out under her eyes as silent testament to her sleepless nights. A sick, leaden weight sat in her gut, dragging her down as she just focussed on taking one step after another. Her magic pulled and pricked underneath her skin, boiling away in her blood as it responded to the stimulus of her misery. She held on to it with gritted teeth, hidden behind unsmiling lips, determined not to disgrace herself, her teachers or her Mum, today of all days.

At the hotel, they quietly transferred into one of the rooms and took the place of the illusions Miss Cackle had conjured to hoodwink the hotel staff and guests into thinking they had been staying there. Mildred felt her headmistress’s worried glance as she paused at the door of the room. She forced herself to raise her head and look the older witch in the eye.

“I’m ready,” she stated tonelessly.

In silence, they walked down to the reception, preferring to take the stairs rather than squash together in the lift, where Miss Cackle smiled and nodded at the reception desk staff. The illusory spell would be back in place by tonight, and tomorrow they would simply disappear, the bill paid.

And waiting in the reception waiting area was Chandra. Clothed just the same as the others, she smiled in greeting, nodding politely to the others and a swift smile for Miss Drill, before taking a step towards Mildred. “Hey there, kiddo,” she called softly. “How are you holding up?”

Mildred just shrugged, not trusting herself to speak. Chandra seemed to understand as she clasped the young girl’s shoulder supportively.

“Chin up, then and let’s get this over with,” she whispered. She glanced towards Miss Hardbroom and Miss Cackle. “The cars are waiting outside.”

The leaden dread in her stomach turned to roiling anguish, as she contemplated what was about to happen. Her breath caught as anxiety prickled and raced in her blood, adding to the growing pain of her magic surging inside her.

Nearby, an old lady checking out winced and exclaimed in pain as static electricity jumped from the desk to her hand.

She saw Miss Hardbroom’s head snap around in her direction, eyes intent and piercing on Mildred’s face, almost like the bad old days of her first weeks at school when Miss Hardbroom did her utmost to find continual fault in everything Mildred did. Without warning, she suddenly felt a calming wave of serenity wash through her, settling the roiling in her gut down to a manageable level and easing the pain of her magic pricking under the surface of her skin. She breathed easier, only absentmindedly noticing that Miss Hardbroom’s sudden tension eased and she relaxed as Mildred did.

With a deep breath, Mildred turned away and followed Miss Cackle out of the hotel, Enid and Maud keeping close to her side, Misses Drill, Pentangle and Hardbroom at her back, Chandra in their wake.

Outside waited three hearses and two cars. Mildred averted her eyes from the sight of the coffins in the back of the hearses, not wanting to see them, nor the flowers that spelled out words like ‘Mum’, ‘Granny’ and ‘Aunt’. She didn’t want to see what was left of her family. She followed Miss Cackle and Miss Hardbroom towards one of the waiting cars like a ghost, listless and uncaring.

Misses Cackle and Hardbroom sat in the first car with Mildred, Enid and Maud spread across the back row, the two older witches shooting concerned glances over their shoulders at them every few moments. Chandra, Miss Drill and Pippa followed in the second car. As they pulled away from the hotel, Mildred felt Enid and Maud tuck their hands into hers, holding them tightly. She closed her eyes and tried desperately not to think as the pain and the dread began to creep back.

Mildred barely recalled arriving at the crematorium, being greeted by the celebrant and taking their seats. She barely noticed the packed rows, full of people she would recognise from the estate, or from the hospital where Julie had worked as a nurse. There were some from further afield, friends of her Granny and Auntie Mo, but she didn’t stop to acknowledge them, she just focussed on putting one foot in front of the other as the celebrant led them towards their seats at the front of the hall.

Enid and Maud kept a silent vigil either side of her as they sat down, Miss Hardbroom, then Enid, Mildred and Maud in the first row; then Chandra, Miss Drill, Miss Cackle and Pippa in the row directly behind. In front of them were arranged the three coffins, beautiful arrangements of pink carnations, mixed zinnia flowers, dark crimson roses and white lilies adorning their surface and arranged in large vases on either side. Mildred found and fixed her eyes on the middle one, a small wooden plaque bearing the name: _**‘Julie Elizabeth Hubble’**_.

As the celebrant called the ceremony to order and began speaking, Mildred felt a sudden surge of rage and hatred for everyone around her. This was so wrong, this could not be happening. Julie Hubble didn’t deserve this, didn’t deserve the nice flowers, or the softly crying mourners, or the solemn celebrant’s meaningless words about life and death. She deserved to be at home, safe, sound and alive. She deserved to be waking up from a long sleep after one of her night shifts, being made breakfast in bed by her hapless, clumsy teenage daughter. It was wrong, so wrong, all of it.

Later, Mildred would recall only odd flashes of that hour long ceremony. Humanist ceremonies only usually ran for half an hour, but as there were three deceased to mourn and speak for, they had lengthened it. She would dimly recall them playing Louis Armstrong’s _‘It’s a Wonderful World’_ after the celebrant’s opening words, her Granny’s favourite song, and one of her old school friends standing up to tell stories of their school days, the hijinks they got up to with pranking the strict nuns at their convent school; the time she dyed her hair bright pink in university before she’d met Mildred’s grandfather, settled down and turned into the stolid, conservative woman who had turned her back on her own daughter after she got pregnant out of wedlock.

They played Pink Floyd’s _‘Wish You Were Here’_ , a favourite band of her Auntie Mo’s as her Mum had told her before. One of Auntie Mo’s colleagues from Doctors Without Borders stood up to speak next, talking of her achievements and the woman who fearlessly threw herself into the middle of war zones to heal the sick and wounded. But she’d never been there, as Mildred remembered. She blinked owlishly at the doctor who stood at the lectern, visibly choking back tears, not recognising the woman he so lavishly praised but she felt like she barely knew.

Then they started playing Andra Day’s _‘Rise Up’_ and after it ended, a lady in a smart black pantsuit stood up to take the lectern. Mildred belatedly remembered her as Carol, the Senior Ward Matron on the ward her Mum had worked on. Her grip on Enid and Maud’s hands turned white-knuckled as she began to witter on, talking about Julie’s dedication and compassion for her patients, her cheerfulness even after a twelve hour shift. Maud and Enid didn’t complain, just held on to her hand that much tighter.

It was all wrong, so wrong. Julie Hubble had been all that and more; they never saw the exhaustion on her face as she stumbled in the door of their flat to wake Mildred up for school and to see her to the school gates before going home to bed, they never saw the devastation she’d tried her hardest to keep from Mildred when one of her patients passed away, or the determined glint in her eye as she came to watch Mildred’s Year Four Sports Day despite just coming off a fortnight’s worth of night shifts. None of them knew her Mum like she’d known her.

The magic spiked and surged in her blood, but she tamped it down with gritted teeth, her vision turning blurry from tears that she wouldn’t let fall. She could feel the weight of everyone’s eyes on the back of her head, watching, pitying, waiting for her to collapse and fall in on herself. She wouldn’t, she wouldn’t, she **wouldn’t**.

As Carol stood down and returned to her seat, sniffling softly, the celebrant returned to his post and asked solemnly, “Is there anyone else who wishes to speak before we commence with the committal?”

As if suddenly thrust into a bright spotlight, Mildred turned to stone as she felt like everyone waited and stared at her with expectant eyes. Miss Cackle had discussed with her the possibility of speaking at the funeral, of reading a poem or just talking about her Mum. Mildred knew she should, knew it was expected of her but…how could she? How could she, clumsy, silly, useless Mildred, hope to convey everything her Mum had been in words? Her eyes widened as her anxiety surged and roiled once more in her gut, pain overwhelming everything, even the anger and the hate.

Hecate took one sideways look at Mildred’s face, her deer-in-the-headlights expression, her racing breath and the agonising grip she had on Enid and Maud’s hands, sensing the rise of her magic once more as it reacted to the stimulus of Mildred’s pain and reacted without thinking once more.

_‘I’m getting a tad too used to this…’_ she thought absentmindedly as she stood and spoke. “Yes, I would like to.”

She could feels the eyes of the assembled guests on her as she stood, including the puzzled glances of Ada, Dimity and the girls. Mildred was staring at her, mouth gaping wide like a fish, distracted from her building pain while Pippa just smiled to herself, a small, secret thing she meant only for herself and Hecate.

Hecate saw it and took courage from it, determined not to think too hard lest she lose her resolution and falter, as she stood from her seat and slipped out into the aisle. Each step towards the lectern felt like an eternity, eyes burning through her back as she paced towards the celebrant in his sombre, formal black suit. With a slight nod, he ceded his place to her, stepping back so the microphone would pick up only her voice. With a deep breath, hands shaking inside the safety of her long coat, Hecate took the stand.

“Good morning,” she began awkwardly, feeling suddenly foolish as her cheeks burned. Everyone watched her, including Mildred who stared at her with shock and not a little bemusement. With another deep breath, Hecate tore her eyes from the young witch and raised her chin, adopting the stern, unassailable façade she’d worn like armour for thirty years. She might look a fool, but she could do this, she would do this. For Mildred.

“I must admit I…I did not know Ms Hubble, Julie, very well. Our acquaintance only really came about through Mildred. We certainly crossed swords regularly over her,” she admitted, with a wry smile at her past animosity towards Julie Hubble. “But one thing shone clear throughout our short, tumultuous relationship: how very much Julie loved her daughter. Everything in her life revolved around Mildred, and everything she was, she brought to that love: her strength, her compassion. I have never known what it is to be a mother and look upon a daughter with pride and all-encompassing love. But I glimpsed it, every time she looked at Mildred and I was privileged to witness such selfless love. A part of Julie will live on, not just in our minds and hearts but also in the remarkable young girl she brought into this world and raised and protected with all her fierce, fierce might,” Hecate paused for a moment, looking once more to Mildred as she noted the girl’s eyes, silent tears falling as she tried to give her a wobbly smile, uncaring about anyone else watching. “And I make you this promise, Julie Hubble. I will protect and care for your daughter with all strength I possess. May this promise reach you, wherever you may be, and help you rest in peace in the knowledge that others are ready and willing to care for and protect Mildred in your stead.”

She punctuated her final words with a slight nod, before clearing her throat and stepping down from the lectern. She couldn’t quite bring herself to meet Mildred’s eyes now, unsure if her words might have angered the young girl somehow, but she could feel nothing worse from her than the same pain, self-loathing and shame and…gratitude? Hecate finally raised her eyes to Mildred’s and saw the tears streaking down her face, her chest heaving with suppressed sobs. Enid subtly shifted out of her way as Hecate gently placed a comforting hand on Mildred’s shoulder, black-tipped fingers gripping tightly, willing strength through her reedy fingers into Mildred’s shrunken frame. She spared only a moment’s glance for Ada and Pippa, but both women were watching her with tearful, shining eyes. Embarrassed, Hecate turned away to focus only on Mildred.

She stayed there, hand on Mildred’s shoulder as the celebrant retook his place on the lectern, speaking the final words of the committal as a soft, beautiful tune began to play. Mildred’s request: _‘Nearer My God To Thee’_.

The music of the violins and cellos arose and undulated around them as the coffins began to move on their trestles towards the doors which would open and admit them into the crematoria, their final journey. Hecate felt Mildred tense, her breath coming short and pained, the anguish and rage in her mind spiking as her magic did, as she started forward with a gasped “Mum!”

Hecate’s hand on her shoulder turned to a gently restraining arm against her collarbone, holding her in place. Mildred’s magic began to build and thrash about within her blood, increasing in strength and potency like a tidal wave and this time, Hecate knew. There would be no stopping it.

Mildred had reached breaking point.

Wordlessly, Hecate cast a protective spell on the crematorium, so at least the non-magical guests in attendance would not be harmed if Mildred lost control. With a sharp glance in Ada’s direction, one the elder witch returned with a concerned nod, Hecate prepared herself to do what she must. As she turned away, she caught Pippa’s eyes and the other witch subtly raised a small black container from her pocket.

Forgetting powder.

Hecate breathed a small sigh of relief, as the coffins disappeared from view and the final notes of the song trembled on the air. She felt Maud and Enid either side of them, and could only hope they had realised the gravity of the situation. As the assembled guests stood in respect for the dead, she felt Chandra and Dimity move either side of the two other young witches, subtly moving them away from Mildred as the shaking in her frame grew worse, her chest shaking with suppressed tears. Hecate heard sudden gasps and exclamations of pain as everyone in the crematorium suddenly received a sharp static shock, the very air charged with tumultuous power as it all but leaked from the girl in her arms.

Without a word, trusting Ada and the others to do what was necessary to contain the situation, Hecate transferred them both away.

* * *

_To be continued..._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this has become very, VERY AU after S3. I'm not sure how, or if, I am going to factor in the Indigo Moon storyline but it likely won't be a big factor in the main storyline. I put in a little reference, and will continue to do so here and there where appropriate but it won't change my plot. I know some of you were looking intrigued to read the visit to the solicitor's, but ultimately it would have been quite a dull scene with information I could convey far more efficiently elsewhere. I always thought it likely that Julie, a single parent in (presumably) the North of England would likely live in a council flat and Mildred wouldn't be able to stay there after guardianship of her effectively fell to Ada, HB et al. 
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoyed and write you all soon.


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